


The Adventures of Spike & Cerberus

by WolfenM



Series: Spike & Cerberus [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Moulin Rouge! (2001), The Sandman (Comics), Whedonverse - Fandom
Genre: A boy and his dog, Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animals, Demons, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Redemption, Souled Vampire(s), Supernatural Elements, Team as Family, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfenM/pseuds/WolfenM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Buffy, Spike finds something to fill the space she left: a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Vamp and His Dog

**Author's Note:**

> This is an oooooold fic series (though I've tweaked it since the original posting circa 2001). It takes place after _Buffy_ 's season 5 finale, "The Gift", and is AU to anything after (as well as _Angel_ season 4 and beyond).
> 
> Cerberus was runner-up for "Most Original Demon" in the third round of the Fang and Fetish Awards!
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER** : Spike, Buffy Summers, Dawn Summers, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, Rupert Giles, Tara Maclay, Anya Jenkins, Drusilla, the Chaos Demon, Daniel "Oz" Osbourne, Angel, Lorne the Host, Cordelia Chase, Charles Gunn, Wesley Wyndam-Price, Winifred Burkle, Riley Finn, Faith Lehane, and Quentin Travers © Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, and Mutant Enemy. Death and Dream (Daniel) of the Endless © Neil Gaiman/DC/Vertigo. Cerberus the vampire dog, Nicky the vampire bunny, and Lydia the werewolf are mine (though Nicky is inspired by Bunnicula, © James Howe).
> 
> NOTE: Each section is headed by the initial of the person whose 3rd-person point of view the section is in.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The initial meeting of Spike and Cerberus, and the making of a vampire dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art is by me. (Please bear in mind that it's old, LOL!)

 

 

  


 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Remind me why I'm buying you food when you're dead ...." Xander scowled at the bleach-haired vamp as Spike took a large bite out of a chili-cheese dog.

"'Cause yer a nice guy?" Spike grinned impishly around the mouthful.

The smile didn't last long. They never did anymore, not for any of the Scoobies now that Buffy was gone. Not that he was a Scooby, but he didn't smile much and neither did they.

He trailed a few feet behind the group as they set off for the bumper cars, his eyes watching warily for other vampires or similar nasties. He didn't much like the crowds or the noise, but Dawn wanted to go, and he wasn't about to deny her anything. He didn't think Xander and Willow much wanted to be there either, but here they all were, sans Giles, Anya, and Tara, who had somehow managed to wrangle out of it, claiming they still had some demons to track down from the opening of Glory's portal. Thinking of the portal just made Spike feel worse. His shoulders slumped as he walked, making him look less like a swaggering tough and more like a kid who'd just been told "no".

Spike suddenly tripped, uttering a curse that earned him angry looks from nearby moms. He had been so busy scanning the crowds, he'd failed to notice the dog that had been following him, trying to beg for a scrap of hot dog. The same dog that was now munching contentedly on what was left of it. When he was done picking himself up and dusting himself off, Spike was about ready to kick the critter halfway across the carnival, when he noticed its ribs. It was definitely half-starved. Half-starved for food and affection, looking up at him hopefully for more food, wagging its tail and lolling its tongue. He wondered idly if that was how the others had seen him, a harmless mongrel in puppy love, starved for blood and begging for Buffy's affection.

A young girl's scream shattered his ruminations. He looked wildly about for the source, and realised the others were gone. The scream came again, and he knew it was Dawn. He raced through the crowd, his keen hearing having pinpointed his charge's location. He failed to notice the terrier mutt following close behind him.

When he found Dawn, she was caught in the arms of a particularly nasty-looking fiend. At first glance, Spike didn't recognize it, but then he wasn't about to stand around thinking about it, either. He raced up and took a swing at it. There was a satisfying crack as his hand connected solidly with its jaw. In fact, its _face_ cracked! Then it registered that Dawn had been laughing a second before he'd landed his fist.

Uh-oh ....

"I can't leave you two alone for five seconds, can I?" An exasperated Willow shook her head and shoved two ice cream cones into Spike's hands. She helped Dawn up, who had tumbled with Xander when he'd fallen under the force of a vampire's socking.

Xander had pulled the mask off and was nursing his jaw. He narrowly missed hitting Spike with a bloody loogie.

"Sorry, mate ... I-I thought you were ...."

"A _demon?!?_ You can't tell a mask from the real thing?!? And I'm _not_ your 'mate'!"

After helping Xander up, Willow took the cones back, giving one to Dawn. She licked hers, then shrugged and handed it to Xander. He held it against his cheek, letting the ice cream act as a cold compress.

Another masked figure came up to them from behind the counter of the booth selling the masks. He tapped Xander on the shoulder. "You're gonna hafta pay fer that."

Xander glared at Spike, then told the vendor, " _He_ can pay for it, since he broke it."

"Here now! I don't have any—"

The vendor stepped up and grabbed the front of Spike's shirt. "If you don't have cash, then I'll just take it out of your _flesh!_ " He removed the mask, revealing an even nastier face beneath. And this one was real. With really sharp teeth.

The strange vampire was just about to take a bite out of Spike's face when something bit into its own leg. It howled in pain and kicked out hard, bringing a yelp from Spike's furry little shadow. Spike took the opening the dog's distraction provided, pounding a fist hard into his opponent's middle. The bloodsucker gasped in pain, hunched over. Spike delivered an uppercut to its chin, sending it sailing over the counter and into a display of masks. It got impaled on one of the wooden dowels of the display, and went up in a puff of dust.

"I think I've had enough excitement for one night. Let's go." Xander turned and started for the car.

"But we haven't done the bumper cars!" Dawn protested, arms crossed, frowning.

"Yeah!" Willow seconded, hands on hips and brow creased.

Xander sighed. "If there's one thing Anya's taught me, it's 'Never argue with a woman.' I can only assume arguing with TWO is even more pointless."

Spike nodded, feeling it was his testosteronely duty to agree even if he  _was_ secretly looking forward to the bumper cars.

The terrier barked. No one knew whose side it was on.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

When Spike got back to his crypt that night, the dog followed him through the door. So he picked it up, set it down outside, told it firmly to "stay", and went back inside. So did the dog.

He tried again. This time he backed up to the door, never taking his eyes off it. He felt behind him for the door then quickly ducked inside. A victorious grin lit his face when the door was shut. It was quickly wiped off his face when he turned around and found the dog squeezing in through an open window.

He huffed in exasperation, running a hand through his short hair. His eyes wandered around the room as he thought for a moment about what to do. They settled on a length of rope, one that had been used in little 'games' he and the Buffybot had played. His heart gave a twinge at the thought, but he shoved it aside with his determination to get rid of the little furball. He found a studded collar in his wardrobe, and put it around the dog's neck., then tied the rope to it. He carried the pup outside.

He tied a rope to a tree, and laughed triumphantly. "Let's see you get back in _now_." The absurdity of holding a conversation with a dog struck him. Shaking his head and muttering about the state of his existence, he went back inside.

He was just about settled comfortably in his crypt when the howling began. He wanted to cry himself. He climbed back out of the crypt and stalked outside.

The dog smiled a happy dog-smile, its whole body shaking with the effort of wagging his tail.

Spike knelt next to it and scratched its ears. He spoke to it like he'd seen many an old woman do to their own dogs, in baby-speak. "Is ums wanting to be Spikey-wikey's din-din?"

The dog stood excitedly and barked.

He sighed. He started laughing in spite of himself. It started as a chuckle, then became a kind of insane giggle. The next thing he knew, he had his arm's around the dog's neck and was sobbing his heart out.

The dog licked his face in sympathy. Or maybe it was just hoping for a treat.

 

WWWWWWWWW

That evening, Dawn and Willow found the vampire sound asleep in his crypt, the dog sprawled across his chest. Dawn gushed over the "cuteness" of the scene, and even Willow had to smile. She was finding it harder every day to picture Spike as the villain he once was.

 

 

When Spike woke up and found them staring at him and the dog, he tried to sound surprised and disgusted. If there was one thing Willow had learned about him in all her encounters with him, it was that, despite his effort to be a bad guy, he couldn't lie to save his life.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSS

Over the next few weeks, Spike increasingly found life without the dog hard to imagine. He thought he was growing soft; he couldn't bring himself to do the vampirely thing and make it a bedtime snack. He tried giving it to one of the Scoobies, but it wouldn't follow anyone but him. It followed him everywhere, and wasn't scared of anything. It would attack all sorts of creatures without hesitation, so that Spike had to concede that it was sort of useful. And after a while, he found it had grown on him. He stopped trying to get rid of it, no longer caring how it looked for a vamp to have a pet dog. After all, his reputation was already pretty much totaled, having helped the Slayer kill his own kind and all.

And if he got right down to it, he didn't feel so lonely anymore. It was nice having someone that loved him even if he _was_ a monster.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

One night Giles had tracked down another creature that had come through the portal. It was a particularly dangerous one, and it was decided that Dawn should be left behind. Knowing she wouldn't be too happy about it, Spike told her he needed her to watch the dog.

"C'mon, small-stuff, y'know how he is. How can I concentrate on slaying the big nasty if I hafta worry 'bout the dog becoming its dinner? I'd tie him up, but he's gotten loose before ... just stay here and keep 'im company, 'ey?"

Dawn wore a look that said she knew what he was really up to, but she also knew what he'd said was true. She reluctantly agreed. He left her watching "Felicity" in his mausoleum.

At the door, he told the dog to stay. "Okay, mate. I need you to be a guard dog tonight, awright? This is my personal hell, and you're my Cerberus, got it? You stay and watch over Dawn, Cerberus."

For once the dog looked solemn. He uttered a single woof, as if to say he understood what an important job he was being given. He also looked pleased at his new name, or at least it seemed that way to Spike. The vampire gave Cerberus a scratch behind the ears in goodbye.

 

DDDDDDDDD

A few hours later, Dawn heard Cerberus growling. She looked up curiously from her book. "What is it boy? Is the big bad werewolf here?"

The dog continued to growl. She got up and made her way to the door. Cerberus ran in front of her, blocking the way, and whined.

The door burst open in a shower of splinters. In stepped a pair of grungy vampires. They smelled as if they had actually rotted after dying.

They looked about the room. One settled his gaze on her. "Where is he?"

Dawn wondered if she could get to the weapons Spike had in his "dungeon" without getting caught first. "Where is who?" she asked in her "obnoxious teenager" voice.

The vamp stepped forward, reaching for her. "Don't play games with me, little girl! Where is the traitor, the one who kills other vam-"

Cerberus leaped for the vamp's throat. The vamp's lightning-quick reflexes knocked the canine into the wall.

His companion laughed, and strode over to the dog's still form. He picked Cerberus up by the scruff of the neck. "It's an appetizer!" He sank his fangs into the furry neck, drinking deeply.

The first vampire smiled coldly. "And you're gonna be dinner, girlie."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Not if I can help it."

Spike had just come home from a hard night of fighting. He still had an ax in his hand. He tore the wooden handle from the metal, and shoved it through the first vampire's chest.

The other vamp dropped his "snack" and tried to crawl out the window. Spike made quick work of him as well.

Dawn had wasted no time rushing to the fallen dog. Spike was torn between concern for her and for the canine.

"You've got to help him, Spike! I think he's dying!"

He took the dog from her arms, eyeing her uncertainly. She _looked_ ok .... He turned his attention to Cerberus.

She was right, the dog _was_ dying. Spike could feel it, in his vampirely fashion. His throat tightened, and his eyes stung. It wasn't fair! Just because _he_ was a monster didn't mean others should suffer for it!

He cradled the dog's cheek with a bloody hand. He had gotten bitten by the demon he'd fought earlier. Cerberus sniffed at the hand weakly and licked it, following his doggy instincts to clean the wound of a packmate. He stirred a bit, seeming to come more awake. The licking became more intense. Spike could feel his lifeforce surge a bit. He felt a tugging, somewhat akin to the tug that came with making another vampire. Understanding, he bit his wrist, tearing open a vein. He held it to the dog's mouth.

Cerberus put his mouth around Spike's wrist and sucked at it like a pup at its mother's teat. Spike could feel his own lifeforce wane, just as he felt it flooding through the dog. After a while, he had to pry the dog's jaws loose from his arm. The dog growled a bit at being cut off from the nourishment, but let go, albeit reluctantly. It sprang to its feet and began licking Spike's face.

Spike laughed and smiled weakly as Dawn cheered. But he felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't begun the process of making Cerberus a vamp— it was an accident. But had he done the dog a favor by finishing it? Once Spike had thought becoming a vamp was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but now .... And could he trust Cerberus around Dawn and the other Scoobies without a soul?

When Dawn began scratching Cerberus's back, the dog smiled his old smile, tongue lolling and tail wagging. He began drowning the girl in slobbery kisses.

Spike felt a wave of relief. Why should he be worried? If he himself could love as a vamp, why not Cerberus? Maybe this was how things were meant to be, the two of them keeping each other company throughout eternity ... or until they got dusted, whichever came first.


	2. Spike and Cerberus Join the Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Cerberus are abducted by a demon circus.

NNNNNNNNN

"Cor, I _tol'_ ya this place was jus' roight fer th' pickin's!" the taller fellow informed his squat companion as they each shouldered an awkward bundle into the truck. "There's nests of them _ev'ry_ where!"

The smaller man eyed the taller one ruefully. "Nyet, comrade. Vonce in my homeland, you could not valk three feet vit'out valking into a demon of some sort -- until Slayer there viped them all out or scared dem away, dat is. No vonder Slayer dat was here died, if she could not manage to clean out vone measly little town!"

"Oh, roight, mate. 'Vatever' you say." The taller man didn't seem to believe Nikki, but the shorter man did not care. He also didn't care when Milton mutter under his breath, "I could believe yo're bloody old enough t'know what happened with a Slayer 300 years ago!"

Truth be told, Nikki didn't like Milton much, but he'd been a good business partner, and in the end that was all that had mattered. The man knew how to handle demons, if maybe not quite as well as Nikki, then well enough and better than most. And Nikki was getting too old to handle so many of them on his own.

A muffled cry came from within one of the bags. One of them had woken up! Milton was about clobber their captive when it spoke. "WE'LL GIVE YOU A TRADE! JUST LET US GO!"

Amused, Nikki stayed Milton's hand." Vat could you possibly offer us?"

"A vampire that can't hurt you!" came the muffled reply.

Milton laughed. "You ain't doin' such a hot job of 'urtin' us yerself, mate!"

"This one has a chip in his head! It keeps him from being able to hurt a human, but allows him to kill his own kind. You could make a petting zoo out of him during the day, & pin him up against other demons at night!"

Nikki had to admit he was intrigued. He nodded at Milton, who then untied the top of the bag to let the vamp's head stick out.

"Awright, bloke, yeh've got our attention. Make sure you _keep_ it." Milton aimed a pistol full of holy water at the vamp, who cringed, face covered in burns.

"He lives in a crypt not far from here. I can show you ...."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

"PLEEEEASE, Spike? I've never been to a circus!"

Spike sighed. "What're you talkin' about? You freakin' _live_ in a bloody circus!" He gestured to the surrounding Sunnydale.

"Spike, how do you want your burger?" Giles asked him from the grill, a spatula in one hand and a meat patty in the other. An apron that said "Kiss the Librarian" completed the look.

"Just the way it is, thanks."

Giles stared at the raw meat, his face looking a bit pale. "Quite right, should have guessed that."

Spike turned back to Dawn's pleading look. God, he spoiled her. "All right, you win. We'll go."

Dawn let out a happy yip that distracted Cerberus from eyeing the pile of meat by the grill. For a second.

"Spike, do you think you could ..." Giles gestured to the dog with a look of pure irritation.

"Awww, he just needs someone to play with him!" Xander cooed. He picked up a stick and waved it. "Here Cerbie! Here boy!"

 _Cerbie?_ Spike mouthed distastefully.

It got the dog's attention though. Xander threw the stick, and the canine went chasing after it. He came racing back with it in his teeth, tail wagging happily.

"Ok, now drop the stick, Cerbie!"

Cerberus just stood there in doggy bliss, stick firmly gripped in his mouth.

"Drop the stick, boy!" Nothing. Xander grabbed one end and began to tug. "C'mon, I can't throw it again unless you give it to me!" Cerberus started to growl playfully. "Spike, you need to train this d—OHMYGOD!!!" He let go in a hurry and scrambled back.

Cerberus had vamped out, but now that Xander had stopped tugging, he reverted to normal.

"SPIKE!!! You made him a _VAMPIRE?!?_ " Willow shot Spike a look of horror.

"Aw, now wait a minute, love—"

"I should think the Humane Society would have something to say about this!" Anya informed him in an authoritative tone.

Tara laughed, earning her hard looks from the other two girls. Xander was watching the dog warily, edging his way toward the fire poker. Giles looked like he wanted to go home, except that he already was.

"It wasn't Spike!" Dawn protested. All eyes turned to her, and she told them the story.

By the time she had finished, everyone was gushing over Cerberus with cry's of "Awww, you poor thiiing!" and "What a good, brave boy!". Everyone but Spike, who was embarrassed, and Giles, who looked grim.

Giles stepped over to Spike and murmured to him, "Are you sure you should let him live? He doesn't have a chip in his head, Spike! How do we know he won’t—"

Spike gave the man a cold look. "Do you think Xander would be standing here with all his limbs in tact if Cerberus were dangerous? Do you think I would endanger _her_ —" he flicked his gaze to Dawn, "— if he was? I. Am. Not. Killing. My. Dog." he said pointedly, voice low and menacing. After a moment he softened. "Look, I know you have reason to be worried, and certainly no reason to trust me. Just think about it this way, then: if vampires were nothing more than killing machines, then Dru and I would have killed each other off long ago. We  _can_ know friendship. Strip away demons and souls, and all yer left with are bodies, machines whose programs are instincts. We all kill to live because it's self-preservation. But we also know that having a mate to watch yer back is apart of protecting yerself too. He sees all of you as his pack; he won't harm you, and he'd give his life to protect you. Just like I would have to save Dru, or Buffy, or ...."

There was no need for him to finish. They both knew that he still bore the scars of what he saw as his failure, the night Buffy died because he wasn't able to protect Dawn.

But his words apparently satisfied Giles, who gave him a pat on the shoulder, in a very rare show of affection. Then the man scrunched his nose in distaste, looking about wildly. Something was burning. His eyes widened in horror as the landed on the grill. He scrambled to put out the fire, Xander rushing to his aid. When they had tamed the angry grill, Giles asked with a nervous giggle, "Anyone for pizza?"

"Next time you let the AMERICAN run the all-American pastime." Xander growled.

 

NNNNNNNNN

"Funny, I don't _see_ any vampires ...." Milton gave the trigger a little squeeze, letting water drip from the barrel.

"He's probably out with his human friends! He'll have to come back eventually!" The vamp found himself praying, and wondered who on earth a creature like him could pray to.

Nikki shrugged. "We can wait a while."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

When Spike got back to the crypt that night, he found a little surprise waiting for him. Cerberus noticed the intruders first; however much Spike’s senses were heightened, he could only vaguely imagine what it was like for the pup having heightened  _dog_ senses.

Spike was rather pleased, truth be told, feeling he could use a little exercise. He and Cerberus made short work of the two vamps who jumped him; he'd started carrying stakes in his coat for the inevitable run-in. Unfortunately he hadn't noticed the scent of humans, having just spent several hours with a handful, until it was too late.

The first one sprayed him in the face, blinding him. He went down in agony. He tried to fight back, but the chip activating incapacitated him even more.

Cerberus attacked that one, ripping a vicious gash in the man's leg, teeth sinking into the bone.

 

NNNNNNNNN

Yowling in pain, Milton let go of the bleached-blond vamp, but the vampire was out cold, the repeated jolts from the chip as he struggled having overwhelmed him.

Nikki came to his comrade's rescue, clubbing the dog with a baseball bat he carried just for that purpose. Vamps might be powerful, but even they fell under a beating if it was fast and hard enough. Once he got the creature subdued, he looked it over. It was a dog, sure enough, but its face was wrinkled like a vamp's. He opened one of its eyes, and saw a demon's there. "Amazing ...." he whispered. He had never seen an animal vamp before. He grew excited. "Milton, ve have hit jackpot!"

Even in excruciating pain, Milton smiled at what Nikki showed him.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

"But he promised! It's not like him to break a promise."

As much as Xander was NOT Spike's friend, he had to admit that Dawn had a point. And the vamp was never far from Dawn's side whenever she went anywhere at night. Xander didn't want to alarm Dawn though. "I'm sure he's just out walking Cerbie and lost track of time. They don't allow dogs at the circus, you know; don't you think he should get some quality time in?"

She nodded, but still pouted worriedly.

"Tell you what," Giles began, "it's getting late, so why don't you get going? I've got some work I should be doing anyway. I'll tell him you went on ahead when he gets' here, and he can meet you there."

 

Xander realised this got Giles out of having to go. Xander scowled at the innocently smiling man, wishing he'd thought of it himself.

 

MMMMMMMM

Milton rubbed his hands together in anticipation. They were all set up, everyone was in place, and the gates would be opening soon. He was sure their new attraction would be a crowd-pleaser.

"Now, let's go over this again, just to make sure you understand." He tapped the water pistol against his head as he circled the vampire and dog, limping slightly. "The room is surrounded by crosses, a holy water moat, and garlic."

"Kind of bloody hard to miss the smell, mate."

Milton hit Spike across the back of the head hard. Cerberus snarled angrily from his cage, then whined in frustration when slamming his body against the bars didn't budge them.

"You will sit patiently as people 'urt you wi' sharp objects an' 'ot pokers. If you try to escape," he looked up at a bucket suspended above Cerberus' cage, "the dog gets it. Keep tha' in mind tonoight when you foight our chaos demon."

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The circus was like nothing the Scoobies had ever imagined (except maybe Xander). They had come expecting elephants, strongmen, acrobats, clowns, tightrope walkers, magicians, lions and tigers. What they  _found_ was—

"Demons. The whole place is FULL of them. What kind of lunatic ....?" Willow shook her head incredulously.

"Hey, I know that guy! HI, ROGER!" Anya waved vigorously to a demon in one enclosure who was hefting a bus over his head. She ran towards him. The others exchanged confused looks and followed.

"Anya!" The demon smiled happily and set the bus down behind him. He ran over to Anya, who had climbed over the wooden fence despite Xander's protests, and swept her up in his massive embrace.

There was nothing for the others to do but follow. Willow noticed as they crossed the barrier that there was a ward flowing through it.

"What are you doing here, Rog?" Anya asked him.

Before the demon could answer, Xander asked Anya a question of his own. "How do you know this guy?" For once, Anya didn't have a quick response, but Roger answered for her. "We used to date, a while back." Then the demon noticed the look on Xander's face. Not that he was afraid; it was just that, for a demon, he had a good heart. "Oh, but that was a long time ago, and it just didn't work out. We decided to just be friends," he assured the human. (Xander had the feeling the demon was wondering just what his old girlfriend saw in Xander.)

Either ignoring or unaware of the awkwardness of the moment, Anya asked Roger again what he was doing there.

"Oh, it's a long story." And it was, a bit. Roger had been caught by demon hunters a hundred years before. These particular hunters weren't interested in killing demons, though, just in using them for profit. They knew everything about every demon there was, he imagined, all their strengths and weaknesses. They knew how to get a monster to do what they wanted without fear of rebellion. They hired the demons as hard laborers, guards, and sold them as pets. The latest venture was displaying them as sideshow freaks. Roger confessed that he had come to like the life, as had many of the others. They were well-fed, had decent living quarters .... No, so long as you didn't piss off the owners, there was no reason to want to leave. But if you tried, chances are there was a sturdy barrier of one sort or another barring the way. He and Anya chatted a bit longer, then made their goodbyes. The Scoobies made their way through the exhibits, demons performing tricks that showed off their nature. Each had it's own set of barriers, some of them quite odd, like the rubber duckies. The crowd ate it up.

Feeling cranky after seeing his fiancé get friendly with an ex, Xander muttered at one point, "You people live in SUNNYDALE. HELLMOUTH. HELLOOOOO. This is nothing new, people ...."

Willow begged to differ, pointing excitedly to breeds of demons she recognized from her reading. Anya met up with a few more friends, most of them also former boyfriends. One non-boyfriend was very beautiful demoness who noticed Anya first. Anya glanced at Xander, then pretended not to know her & moved on.

No one remembered about Spike.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike sank to his knees in relief as Nikki shooed the last of the patrons out of the tent and closed the flap. He had been sliced, stabbed, and beaten all afternoon. The two men were quite pleased with the crowd their "safe" vamp and vampire dog had drawn. Now they were going to take him to the main tent for his big fight. Spike wasn't worried though. He knew something his captors didn't: that his friends had planned on visiting the circus that night. One of them was a powerful witch. Spike's only concern was that something might have come up. Well, that, and that they might not think Spike was worth saving ...

Cerberus whined. Spike scratched the dog's ear through the bars as the cage was wheeled out of the tent. Well, if the Scoobies wouldn't save Spike, maybe they would at least save the dog.

 

XXXXXXXXXX

The Scoobies settled into the front row, center. Dawn couldn't believe their luck. Xander thought it had something to do with the smell, while Willow thought maybe people didn't want to get quite so close to the monsters. They all dug happily into they snack foods -- popcorn, nachos, hot dogs, and the like. Xander grumbled a bit at the expense, suggesting that he wasn't going to be eating anything else for a month.

When the carnage began, he wished he hadn't eaten so much. Now they understood why the vendors were also selling rain ponchos; the grisly scene was messier than attending a Gallagher show*. Luckily for many of the demons, loosing a limb, including one's head, apparently wasn't lethal. Xander reflected that the owners wouldn't want to get their performers killed. Then again, being at the Hellmouth, they could easily re-stock ....

Suddenly Xander remembered about Spike. He had an inkling of what happened to the wayward demon. The next fight confirmed it for him.

It was Spike. And some demon with antlers on his head.

"Spike! THEY'VE GOT SPIKE!" Dawn started to stand, but Tara pulled her back down.

"Wait! You want to start a riot in the middle of demon central? Let's take a minute to look the situation over, here ...."

"But he could get hurt!"

"And _we_ could get _killed_ ," Anya pointed out.

Tara nodded in agreement, elaborating, "None of the fighters have been mortally wounded. We stand a better chance getting him out of here if we think this through. He'll be okay in the meantime."

"Presuming he _wants_ to leave." Everyone stared at Anya. "Well, come on! You heard Roger and the others! They _like_ it here! How do we know Spike doesn't?"

Dawn's eyes filled with tears. "NO! YOU'RE WRONG! He wouldn't leave me!"

In spite of himself, Xander found that he hoped Dawn was right. He told himself it was just for her sake.

 

SSSSSSSSSSS

"Hello!" the chaos demon said cordially. It was the same one who had been dating Dru, and it remembered Spike. "Ah, I hope there are no hard feelings ...?"

Spike smiled halfheartedly. "No, mate. There's nothing between Dru and me, now." Saying it, he knew it was true. He might always love her, but too much had happened. "Still, you understand I'm not going to pull any punches? Got a reputation to maintain." And a friend to protect, he added to himself.

The demon swallowed. "Just don't break the antlers, ok?"

"Not making any promises, mate. But if it's any consolation, we get out of this and yer free to see Dru with no interference from me."

The chaos demon's look changed from mournful to hopeful. "Say ... you wanna try to escape together?"

Spike considered, then nodded. They shook on it, then walked out into the ring.

Dawn was there. He could smell her. After a moment of searching, his eyes found her, and locked with hers. The demon's fist wiped the smile from his face.

Dawn stood again, letting out a cry. Many of the other young ladies in the audience also let out a cry as what they thought was a handsome young man got set upon by the monster. They stifled their cries when they saw the man's face turn into a demon's too.

After that, it wasn't much of a fight. The demon was big and strong, but he wasn't skilled in combat. Spike had spent over a century as a brawler, and was faster. In minutes, he had the chaos demon down.

 

NNNNNNNNN

Milton and Nikki were disgusted. They had never used this particular demon before; they thought he would put up a better fight.

"Finish it!" Nikki called from the sidelines.

"... What?!?" the vampire yelled back.

"KILL HIM! He is useless to us!"

"NO!"

Milton shot a quick stream of holy water into the cage next to him. The demonic dog howled in pain. "DO IT, OR THE DOG DIES INSTEAD!"

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike looked at the cage, then the demon, in horror. There was a time when he wouldn't have given the situation a second thought. Back then, it would have been Dru in the cage, and he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill an innocent to save her. Funny how saving people had suddenly grown more complicated for him.

He scanned the crowd again, finding Dawn quickly. He spied Willow near her. "WILL! HELP CERBERUS!" He looked back at the cage.

Willow followed his gaze. Smart as she was, it didn't take her long to figure out what Spike wanted; a single word, and the door to the dog's cage swung open.

Cerberus took the tall human, Milton, down before the man could recover from the shock of the door opening. Spike went after the shorter one, Nikki. He didn't hit the man, only grabbed him. The chaos demon picked himself up, then delivered a powerful punch to Nikki's jaw. The man crumpled in Spike's arms.

"Let's get out of here!"

"But the others ...."

Spike shrugged. "If they wanna follow, that's their business. I think most of them would rather stay."

They looked about. A few demons fought some of the humans who worked for the two men, but most of them just stood there.

 _Besides_ , Spike thought, _I don't think Buffy would appreciate me letting a zoo-full of demons free around Dawn_.

He, Cerberus, and the demon took advantage of the distraction the fighting demons provided to run back through the tent the way they'd been brought in, avoiding the wards and barriers that had been placed around the ring to keep them there. The Scoobies followed. The crowd in the stands had freaked out and were beating a hasty, chaotic retreat through the main entrance.

The panic had spread to outside. There was a mass exodus to the gate, which resulted in a pileup. They looked behind them and saw a few of the demon hunters giving chase.

"How are we gonna get outta here?" asked Xander, sounding at the edge of his calm.

Spike looked around. "We _are_ outdoors. We don't _have_ to go out the gate." He started to run down one of the less crowded walkways towards a high wall, the others following close behind.

"Now what?" Xander asked when they reached it.

"This one's on us!" Tara laughed, as she and Willow held hands. They gestured forward with their free hands. The wall buckled, a few yards of it collapsing.

"But the wards!" the chaos demon protested.

"We took care of it," Willow informed them as she and Tara crossed the barrier.

The others followed happily, but none more so than Cerberus, tail wagging and tongue lolling.

Once clear, Spike said goodbye to the demon, who went his own way.

The Scoobies headed back to Giles' place, vamps in tow.

"Ah. There you are. Did you all have fun?" Giles asked them.

Spike thought about it a moment. He ached from head to foot, a walking collection of cuts and burns. He looked down at Cerberus, who was still wagging his tail. He smiled. "Yeah. Nothin' like a night out with yer mates."

Spike walked in past Giles, the Scoobies coming tiredly behind. They settled down on the chairs and couches around the room. Cerberus hopped up and lay down next to Spike, who had set his feet up on the coffee table and was now channel-surfing.

"Spike, that  coffee table is not an ottoman," Giles winged. "And the dog will get hair all over my sofa!"

"Come on, Giles, what's a little hair and dirt between .... Never mind," he amended, removing his feet and moving to put the dog on the floor.

"No, wait, Spike." Giles gave him a small, sad smile. "Go ahead and relax. You're right. What _is_ a little dirt and hair between friends?"

Stunned, Spike returned the smile, nodding -- and taking off his boots before putting his feet back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For those of you who don't get the reference, Gallagher was a comedian who's shtick was hitting fruits, particularly watermelon, with a sledgehammer, thus showering the first few rows of his audience with gourd entrails. I like him when I was little!


	3. Spike & Cerberus in LA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike considers a new career, and makes some new acquaintances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a crossover with _Angel_.

LLLLLLLLLLLL  
Lydia watched the clouds move past the pale moon from her seat on the tombstone. She was an odd sight: a young girl dressed in bright & flowing garments with flowers in her hair, alone in a dark and forbidding graveyard, save the small animal by her side. One might think by the look of her that she was on her way to the ren faire.

"Well lookie here, boys! The heathens have left us a virgin offering!"

The vampire leader sauntered over, chains jangling. His followers might have been carbon copies. The little creature beside her wrinkled its little nose in distaste at their stench. Lydia guessed they hadn't bathed since they'd died. She scooped up the critter and slid down off her seat. She smiled pleasantly, taking a few steps towards them, then stopped.

"What's that, the appetizer?" asked the leader, pointing to the bundle of fur. His cohorts laughed, snorting like the pigs she thought they resembled.

"Why don't you find out?" she asked in return, her voice like silk.

The leader made a motion with his arm, and the party surged forward. And subsequently all fell into the pit she'd covered with leaves. And were dusted on the wooden stakes at the bottom.

Lydia shook her head, laughing softly. She kissed the bunny's head. She began stroking its ears, and it rubbed its teeth together appreciation, the bunny version of a purr. She sighed. "Now I have to cover the pit again." She looked up at the moon, which was close to setting, and shrugged. "Well, it's late; I doubt he's coming tonight."

She set the bunny down in front of the tombstone she'd been sitting on. It immediately began clawing at the earth, sending vast amounts flying. It was no ordinary bunny. Lydia was no ordinary girl. She sat down on the tombstone to watch.

She was waiting for the bunny's sire, a boy from school. Her kind and vamps had never been on good terms. She was a werewolf.

Her first transformation had happened when she was home alone one night. The boy had come over. She didn't know at the time that he was a vamp, only that she kind of liked him, and here he was at here door. She invited him in. Once up in her room, the boy had revealed his true nature. He was holding her familiar, and suddenly sank his teeth in. The bunny sank his own teeth into the vampire in turn, drinking the boy's blood even as he himself was being drained.

That was when Lydia "wolfed out" for the first time. Unfortunately, the transformation left her disoriented, allowing the boy to escape. She'd been coming to the graveyard every night ever since, waiting for the vamp to show up. She'd had the rabbit dig the pit, then filled it with long wooden stakes, figuring she could lure the vamp into impaling itself.

A small part of her wondered if she hadn't somehow cursed the rabbit when she named it after the title character in her favorite childhood story, Bunnicula, all those years ago when she'd gotten it as a present. Nicky, as she'd taken to calling him, had been turned into a superbunny. She thought he really might be able to leap tall trees in a single bound! He could dig better than an earthmover. She imagined that nothing escaped the notice of his ears or nose. He could chew threw concrete. He didn't seem to mind his new life at all. She supposed it really wasn't all that bad, at that. Living forever, healing quickly, being super-strong and virtually unkillable. Rather like she herself was now. She almost wondered if she should be thanking the vamp instead of wanting to kill him.

Bunnicula settled into his borrow just as the sun started to rise. She made her way back home, planning to sleep in on the lazy summer day as usual, and dream of the vampire's death. Little did she know that he was already dead — and another vamp had been the one to dust him ....

SSSSSSSSSSSS  
Spike almost managed a smile as he watched Cerberus play in the dirt of a newly dug grave. He thought it must be nice to be a dog, undead or otherwise, with no worries and not much in the way of memory. He didn't think they knew guilt. Well, unless you counted them cowering as you yelled at them for chewing yet _another_ hole in your duster.

Spike, on the other hand, had little _but_ his memories. Memories of people he'd killed. Memories of the sissy he was before he died. Memories of the women he'd loved. The Slayers he'd killed. And he had the rest of eternity to remember them, barring a nasty encounter with a sunbeam or a pointy stick.

Of course, he had to make it worse for himself. Had to write poems, which only served to make the remembering easier — or the forgetting harder.

Right then, he was remembering one he'd written for Buffy. He'd gotten considerably better at writing since he'd died; dying did wonders for freeing up one's inhibitions. He'd also taken to making them into actual songs. No one knew it, but he was actually quite a good singer, even if he did say so himself. Still, the idea of the Scoobies finding out about his talent bothered him for some reason. Being an artist meant baring your soul to your audience. Well, he didn't have a soul, but the principle was the same. It meant showing your weakness and leaving yourself open. For some reason, a tiny part of him still saw the Scoobies as "the enemy", and lived in fear that he might one day be staked. If they saw his poetic side, they might start to see "Big Bad" as getting to be an old softie. Soft things were easier to poke with pointy objects than hard ones.

  
_"What did you do to me?_  
Took away everything that I was.  
Without even trying, you did me in,  
and why? Because. Just ... because _._  


_"I was an afterthought, a victim of your eyes,_  
someone whose days were numbered  
by living at the edge of your life. __  
_You just walked away,_  
left me with the pieces of myself. 

 _"Left me to face what I am_  
in my own personal hell.  
Well baby, you don’t get rid of me that easily  
because you're always in my mind.

 _"Dreams are real, close your eyes,_  
_seek and ye shall find_  
Know that, no matter how far you run or hide,  
you can’t shake me. Like it or not,  
I'm always at your side ...."

  
There was a clapping behind him that caused him to jump to his feet and Cerberus to come running. How could anyone sneak up on him? When he turned towards the source of the sound, he had his answer. It was another demon.

"Very nice!" The demon circled him, sizing him up. Spike did the same, noting how it's mottled green skin, yellow eyes, and horns at the temple should have seemed out of place with the fine Don Johnson-pink suit, but oddly didn't.

"Don't go getting ideas, mate. I don't swing that way anym-"

The demon laughed, and waved a hand. "Puhleease! Granted, you are pretty in a human kind of way, but definitely not my type. No, I mean the singing. Well, the look too, but just in a fashion-statement kind of way."

Spike didn't notice that last. Singing? He had been singing that _out loud??_

Cerberus sniffed at the demon's leg.

"Nice doggy!" The demon reached down to pet him.

"Don't do that, he'll—" _let you bloody pet him_ , he finished mentally, flabbergasted as the dog happily enjoyed an ear-scratching. Some attack dog! Well, he supposed that meant the bloke had to be all right, or else the dog would be making his leg into a nice bedtime snack. Spike relaxed. A little.

The demon straightened and regarded the vamp. "So, how would you like to perform at my club sometime? A voice like yours, I'd pay at my premium rate, something I don't normally do for people who are new — you _are_ new, aren't you?"

"New?" Sometimes Spike thought the dog must be psychic; Cerberus cocked his head at the demon as if he too would like to know what he meant.

"Well, I mean I haven't seen you before, and I see a talent like yours rising fast! So I'm guessing you've never performed before?"

"Performed?"

"Well yeah? I mean, why else the singing and the Billy Idol look?"

Spike shrugged, but the demon didn't pay attention. He was going on and on about his club, who performed there, what nights were good for what music, asking Spike if he had a band, but not waiting long enough for Spike to answer. The next thing Spike knew, he was shaking hands with the demon and then the guy was gone. The only proof Spike had that the demon had even been there was the business card in his hand.

"What kind of name is 'The Host'?" he asked Cerberus. The dog barked, and Spike swore the critter knew the answer, if only Spike could understand "dog".

LLLLLLLLLL  
Lydia was happy _something_ useful came out of being a werewolf. If she had been a human of eighteen, there would have been no way they would have let her into a club. But since she was a monster of sorts, and it was a demon club ....

She sat down at the bar and asked for a Bloody Mary. At this place, they used REAL blood. Drink in hand, she swiveled in her chair and began scanning the crowd. She had waited three nights now for her vamp-boy, with no sign of him. She came to the club in hopes of finding him hanging out. There WERE vamps here, but she hadn't spotted hers yet.

"GET THE FURBALL OFF MY COUNTER, OR I SERVE HIM TO THE NEXT CUSTOMER!" Snarled the bartender at her.

She apologised and gathered Nicky in her arms. When she swiveled her chair back towards the crowd, she found the people at the next table staring at her. She smiled, blushing. "Sorry," she told them.

"What a cute bunny! Willow, look!" cried one of them, a pretty honey-blonde woman whose aura spoke of power while her manner spoke of meekness. Lydia guessed she was a witch, like herself. Witches could always tell one another.

The redhead next to her looked where her companion pointed. "Awww! Can I hold him?" If anything, that one seemed even stronger, and more outgoing to boot.

"Um ... better not, he bites."

"Oh, ok then." Both of the witches turned their attention back to the table.

Her keen ears picked up the words of a young man next to them, who addressed the rest of the table in a whisper. "Uh, I realize this is LA, but isn't she a bit young to be here?"

"She's also a werewolf, Xander," answered another. Lydia was almost positive this one was a vamp. A third man next to him, his back to Lydia,  tensed. The vamp spoke again. "Gunn, remember the rules; no fighting in the club." He seemed to think about his own words for a second. "Cordy, remind me why we're here again?"

A dark-haired girl, also turned away from Lydia, smacked him upside the back of the head. "ANGEL! Could we be any less supportive?"

"Well, I just don't understand why _I_ have to be here! I mean, it's not like I'm some music connoisseur—"

Gunn snorted. "Got that right!"

"See?" Angel pointed at Gunn. "Listen to him; he knows what he's saying!"

"Angel, don't you want to _relax?_  Have some fun!" Another man with glasses gave him a stern look. "That's an _order_."

Angel scowled. "I don't think that's in my contract, Wesley."

"Way ta be a party-pooper, Angel!" The red-head scolded him.

"One gets the idea you don’t want us around," Xander told him in an _I'm on to you, pal_ voice. Angel pouted.

"Why are you being such a cry-baby?" Cordy asked the brooding vamp, exasperated. "Leslie was a good singer, and he's a _bad_ guy!"

" _Was_ a bad—"

"What _ever_. All I'm saying is that you enjoyed _that_ , so what makes you so sure _this_ will be bad? The Host has good taste!"

"I _suppose_ , for a man who listens to _showtunes_ ...." Gunn weighed in.

"I like showtunes!" the blonde added helpfully.

"Tara's right! We have a lot of fun singing showtunes, don't we?"

"So anyway, Ang, misery loves company, right bro? If I have to be here ...."

"GUNN!" Cordy snapped.

"Hey, why _am_ I here?" Gunn wonderd. "Am I getting paid for this?"

"Paid? Can I get paid for being here?" another girl, with darker red hair and her back to Lydia, asked excitedly.

"No, Anya, we're just here to visit friends. You don't get paid to visit." Xander sounded like he wished they did, that it might make it more worth his while to do so.

The lights dimmed, and Wesley shushed them all.

The Host stepped into the spotlight. "I want to thank-you all for coming to my grand-reopening! Tonight, to celebrate the club's facelift, I've brought you a new face! So let's give a warm welcome to William the Bloody!"

The applause died down quickly when a bleach-blond Billy Idol wanna-be stepped out with a battered old acoustic guitar. A slight murmur began.

SSSSSSSSS  
Spike's keen hearing caught whispers of "Isn't that the vamp that ousted that nest the other day? Imagine! Going after his own kind!"

He was already nervous. "Big Bad" Spike seemed to have been left backstage; William the Bloody was ever a coward. Now he realised the audience might want to kill him _before_ he started singing, making things a hundred times worse than he'd imagined. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to try anyway. (Maybe that ugly critter he and the Scooby gang had dusted last week?) There was only one thing that could make the evening even worse -- and of course it happened as his eyes scanned the crowd.

First there was the Scoobies, sans Nibblet and Giles. They were as shocked to see him as he was to see them, maybe moreso. He knew they had taken a road trip to see a concert, but he figured it would be someone _big_ , like the _real_ Billy Idol, or Nerf Herder. Then he saw that Angel and Cordelia were with them, likewise looking at him as if the most unimaginable thing in the universe had happened. His nightmare was complete.

"SING ALREADY!!!" The audience was getting restless. He didn't think he had ever been so terrified in his afterlife, not even one of the numerous times the Slayer—

The Slayer. She who had died at the hands of a god because he had failed her. He had already had the greatest failure of his existence, living or otherwise. Cerberus barked from backstage, distracting him for a moment. When he came back to himself, he discovered abruptly that his fear was gone. In its place was the aching hole Buffy's death had left in him. He remembered the moment the hole had appeared.

He began to sing. The mutterings stopped almost instantly.

  
_"The sun is a stranger to me,_  
a warm, bright light  
whose touch I have lost,  
whose kiss I hunger for,  
_though it mean my end._

__  
"Her name was Elisabeth,  
my great golden goddess .  
She pierced my heart,  
killed me by letting me live.  
The wound won’t ever mend.

 __  
"Her kind words caught me  
her smile, held me fast,  
her angry sighs murdered me,  
her arms carried my death,  
and yet in her eyes, I was reborn.

 __  
"Made me better than I ever was,  
cleansed the monster from the man,  
left me better than she found me,  
An eternity to live and morn."

  
Later, many would say that the croonings of a lovesick vampire was the most heavenly thing they had ever heard. Not that demons knew much of heaven.

When the last echo of the last note from his guitar had died, the room erupted in applause. Spike was torn between the desire to bask in the attention and the desire to run and hide like it was the sun. Then he saw Angel rise and decided running was definitely the better option.

A number of things prevented this from happening.

Cerberus came running from back stage and made a beeline for Angel. Something small and furry was thrown by a patron near Angel at the bar, straight at the dog. Spike moved to protect his friend, but a large demon at the table in front of him stood up and moved into the aisle, blocking his path. It glared down at him. At least he thought it did — he couldn't see a mouth and wasn't too sure the knobs on the back of its head were eyes.

"You're the vamp what kills demons, aren't ye? The one who loved the Slayer?"

Spike was taken aback by that. How had anyone found out about his feelings for Buffy? Dru, maybe? he wasn't even going to begin to wonder how the creature was talking without a visible mouth. "I think you've go the wrong guy—"

He heard an echo of his words from behind the demon. It was Angel's voice. He peered around the huge form and saw the other vamp looking up at the demon's head. At it's true face. The demon hadn't been talking to him at all.

Past them, he could see Cerberus fighting with the small white fluffy thing the patron had thrown. The patron herself, who looked to be a girl between Buffy and Dawn's age, was trying to pry him off of whatever it was. Willow and Tara were helping her. The rest of Angel's round table seemed uncertain as to which fight they should be intervening in. After the next moment, it didn't matter.

The demon had taken a swing at Angel and missed. His momentum carried his enormous bulk into a table to the side. The people sitting there didn't appreciate that. They were demons too, also of the large variety. Chaos ensued.

Spike had to admit it was kind of fun. With the chip in his head, he couldn't hurt humans, so he had to take his natural vamp aggressiveness out on other demons. Now he had a whole room full to fight — except that he was too worried about Cerberus to enjoy it much.

He fought his way to his companion's side. Willow and Tara had apparently managed to separate the dog from whatever it was it had been attacking, and the strange girl was nowhere to be seen. Now, they had a bigger problem.

Now Cerberus was facing down a wolf.

"Is that _Oz???_ " Spike yelled above the din as he reached Willow's side. He ducked as Xander went flying overhead, tossed by another demon. A moment later Anya pushed past him, knocking over patrons like bowling pins as she fought her way to her fiancé.

"No, It's some girl!" Willow replied. "I've never seen a werewolf change so completely before!"

So the girl wasn't gone. And neither was the other thing the dog had been fighting. He spotted a white and black bunny between the wolf's paws. At least, he thought it might be a bunny; it looked like one, excepting the fangs.

"So zap it already!"

"I cant do that! This is all just a misunderstanding! You can't blame her for wanting to protect her poor little bunny!"

Eyeing the critter's teeth, he thought the bunny was rather like the one he saw in that Monty Python movie, and quite capable of taking care of itself. He didn't take the time to point that out, however, as the wolf lunged.

He threw himself amongst the animals, feeling three sets of teeth sink into him at once. Cerberus let go immediately when he realised what he'd done. The wolf and the rabbit weren't so obliging.

He heard Willow and Tara shout some words. There was a flash of light, and he was free. The wolf and the bunny were out cold.

And then so was Spike, after he was hit with a stray table.

SSSSSSSSSS  
When Spike came to, he didn't recognize the surroundings or the couch he was on, but he knew most of the faces: the Scoobies that had been at the club, as well as Angel and Cordelia. He assumed the poofter with the glasses and the gangbanger were some of Angel's friends. Cerberus licked his face in greeting, then moped in his lap. The poor dog still felt bad about biting him, he figured. He gave his best friend an affectionate fur-ruffle.

"Well, well, I guess the gang's all here ..." he observed, trying to cut through the awkwardness of them all staring at him.

"You can _sing??_ " Xander blurted out.

"I think what Xander means to say is, 'You can sing and you aren't doing it for a living instead of sponging off of us??'" Anya corrected.

"Yeah, well ...." Spike ran a hand through his hair. "I've never sung in public b'fore. Was tryin' it out. Doesn't look like I'm bloody likely to be asked back after t'night, though." He hadn't decided yet if this was a bad thing or not.

"Guys, could I have a minute with Spike?"

 _Oh boy, here it comes_ , Spike thought. Cerberus must have picked up on his mood, because the dog started to whine.

Angel watched the gathering leave. When the door was shut, it was almost a full minute before he turned to face Spike. "What was with that song, William?"

"Come again?"

Angel leaned over him, faces inches away. Spike thought he was about to get his "game face" on, and prepared to do the same.

AAAAAAAAA  
"A _love_ song to 'Elisabeth' — to  _Buffy?_ What, were you _mocking _me?__ " Angel growled. _ _"__ I swear, if this was the Lorne's idea of a joke—"

"'E didn't know what I was gonna sing. Hell,  _I_ didn't know till I got on stage! An' 'e couldn't know you and I know each other, 'cause I didn't know you knew _'im_."

"Fine, it wasn't his fault. So again, why the song?"

Spike shrugged. "I was thinking of her when I started. I just made it up as I went along."

"Why would you make up something like that??"

Spike took a deep breath. "Because I loved her. Still love her, actually."

He didn't even try to duck as Angel backhanded him. "I will not let you mock her memory!"

Spike looked back at him with hollow eyes. "Do I look like I'm laughin', mate?"

Angel stared at his enemy and former friend. He thought back to the song, how Spike's voice had sounded. He recognized the pain that had been there, because it was a mirror of his own. He sank down into the chair behind him, knees weak with disbelief. Spike was telling the truth. Spike had loved Buffy.

"But ... how? I mean, you don't have a soul—"

"I have this sodding chip—"

"But that's not the same!" Angel protested.

"So people keep telling me. But no one can seem to tell me why it's not."

Angel tried to answer him, but every time he seemed ready to say something, nothing came out.

SSSSSSSSSSS  
Spike felt Angel's eyes on him as he turned his attenton to Cerberus, trying to comfort the whining dog. Spike could guess what Angel was thinking because he would have been thinking the same thing: the Spike that Angel had known would have made a snack of the pup. And then Angel would be wondering the same thing Spike did every day: Could Spike truly have changed without the aid of a soul?

Suddenly the dog leapt from Spike's lap and ran for the door, scratching and whining.

"I guess he needs to go out?" Angel suggested.

"Shouldn't need to, him being dead an' all."

The sound of breaking glass and screams drew them from their seats and sent them running for the other room, to check on their friends.

They found the gang circled, in what seemed the lobby of a hotel, around the werewolf from the club. It was in its halfling form, standing on two legs the way Oz had done when he changed. Its face was different though, a mix of human and wolf. The fanged rabbit sat on its shoulder. Cerberus growled at the pair, but didn't approach.

"You ...." it snarled when it spied the vamps. Everyone exchanged confused looks; Spike had never known a werewolf to talk when it was "wolfed out".

"Did you kill Nicky's sire?" it asked.

"I don't know what you're tal—" Angel began, stopping when it pointed at Spike.

"Um ... might help if you describe 'im to me, luv."

"The guitar you played tonight was his."

Spike blinked. "I just got it from the host, I don't know how he got it."

Angel coughed. "Uh, that would be my fault, actually. I killed the vamp who owned it and gave it to the Host." he braced himself for the wolf's attack.

It never came. The wolf sighed, then said, "You really know how to ruin a good time, don't you? Denied me my revenge! Ah well. Nicky can still have his."

As if on cue, the rabbit leapt from the wolf's shoulder at the dog. It landed on his head, then spun around and sank its teeth into the dog's nose. It jumped off, and Cerberus ran into the other room, yelping.

Spike and the Scoobies stood awestruck. As far as they had ever seen, the dog wasn't afraid of anything. He hadn't even been afraid of Spike, back before the dog had been turned!

The bunny didn't pursue. It stopped and huffed, as if to say good riddance, then hopped back to its companion.

"Right, well I'm off then. Sorry 'bout yer widow. Did you know your doorbell's not working?"

Angel shook his head slowly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

The werewolf nodded and shifted to full wolf, then turned to leap out the window, the rabbit riding its back.

"Never a dull moment in LA, huh?" Xander commented.

Angel put his arm around Spike's shoulders. "Now that you're in 'the club', you should come around more often. Be like old times — er, except we'd be killing demons instead of humans. Nice voice, by the way."

Even though this was Angel, not Angelus, Spike knew the man well enough to see the overture as more heartfelt than it seemed. He grinned and put his arm over Angel's. "Sounds like a blast, 'Yoda'. And thanks ...."

Cordelia just sighed and went looking for a broom.


	4. Spike and Cerberus Meet the Sandman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike has a crazy dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly a Sandman and very much a Moulin Rouge (© Baz Lurhman/20th Century Fox) crossover. The plot follows part of the film, basically placing Spike and Buffy in the roles of Christian and Satine (© Baz Lurhman/20th Century Fox), and the Scoobies and Cerberus in the parts of other characters from the movie.
> 
> "Love is a Many Splendored Thing" lyrics © Paul Francis Webster. "Love Keeps us Together" lyrics © Captain & Tennile. "Up Where We Belong" lyrics © Joe Cocker. "All You Need is Love" lyrics © The Beatles. "Silly Love Songs" lyrics — Paul McCartney. "Heroes" lyrics © David Bowie. "I Will Always Love You" lyrics © Dolly Parton. "We Should Be Lovers" lyrics © Alfie Zappacosta. "In The Name of Love" lyrics © Bono/U2. "I Was Made For Lovin' You" lyrics © Kiss. "One More Night" lyrics © Phil Collins. Mash-up of all these songs, aka the "Elephant Love Medley" (Sung by Christian and Satine in the film and Spike and Buffy here), put together by Baz Lurhman. "Come What May" lyrics © David Baerwald. "My Song" lyrics © Elton John.

SSSSSSSSSSS

Spike didn't want to go to the movies. He certainly didn't want to see a musical. And he _especialy_ didn't want to see some Scottish pretty-boy perform in a show about a time period he had once looked upon as the "good ol' days". But the Nibblet wanted to go, and he couldn't deny her anything.

Well, all right, he was a bit keen on anything that David Bowie had a hand in.

So that's how Spike found himself seeing _Moulin Rouge_ at the local theatre. And how he found himself having the strangest dream of his existence, dead or otherwise.

When the house lights went up, he quickly dried his eyes and prayed no one noticed.

"So *sniff*, what did you *sniff* think?" Dawn asked, not the least bit ashamed of the tear trails on her face.

"That was fantastic!" Tara handed a tissue to Willow.

"I don't understand what the big deal was! Obviously she should have chosen the duke at the _start_. Then she might have cured the consumption before it got to bad. Now she's dead and _nobody_ is happy." Anya pouted, hers the only eyes that were dry; even Xander looked a bit misty, and Giles blew soundly into his handkerchief.

"I don't think it was that simple to cure, luv," Spike informed the ex-demon.

"So what did  _you_ think of it?" Dawn asked him pointedly.

He shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. "Bloody awful ending, wa'n't it?"

Xander raised a brow. "Sooo ... does that mean you like the _rest_ of it?"

Spike made a sound of disgust. "NO-OO!"

The group collectively crossed their arms and offered him the _yeah, right, tell me another one_ look.

"Well, all right, so I liked the funny bits."

They didn't move.

"The FUNNY bits! ... Aannnn'maybesom'fthemusic ..."

Dawn giggled, and he shook a finger at her face. " _Some_ of it. Now not another word." He turned, and began the trek up the stairs toward the exit. He stopped after a few steps, sensing they were having a jolly at his expense. He turned quickly, and they smoothed their faces, but not fast enough for him to not have noticed the grins. "NOT. ANOTHER. WORD."

And he left without turning again. He made it all the way back to the crypt without realizing they hadn't followed. He felt a pang, but wouldn't call it loneliness.

When he opened the crypt door, the unnamed feeling was forgotten; Cerberus was in usual doggy form, jumping and pawing and barking happily at seeing his friend. Spike reflected that maybe it was better the Scoobies  _weren't_ there, so they wouldn't be able to laugh at his soft side yet again. He got down on the floor with the dog and gave Cerberus a vigorous scratching. Then they started to wrestle playfully. Once Cerberus was riled up, he ran to get his ball. Spike threw it out into the cemetery. The dog went after it and brought it back, but wouldn't give it up. Fetch turned into tug of war. Spike managed to wrestle the now-slippery-with-slobber thing free, and threw it again. This went on for a while, untill Cerberus decided he'd had enough, and laid down with his belly up for another good scratch.

Yes, it would be entirely embarrasing for Spike if he knew someone was watching their wholesome antics. But then again, it felt nice to have someone to come home to, and who looked forward to his return. Someone to curl up with in the cold crypt as he listened to the radio, which lulled them both to sleep. Funny, he didn't remember turning it on ....

It was playing "Lady Marmalade", from _Moulin Rouge_.

He had locked his crypt door, but doors were nothing to the one who watched him.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He found himself in the Bronze, only not with the usual crowd of ordinary teens and young twenty-somethings. It was filled with prostitutes, human and otherwise, and their johns. On the stage was ... The Host? Dressed as a show barker? Spike took a closer look at the prostitutes. Harmony. Cordelia. Well, no surprise there. Tara? Willow? No, not prostitutes exactly, though they looked the part. They were performing magic tricks for the crowd. Xander was doing crowd control, while Dawn and Anya were serving drinks. Angel was a Harlequin, Gunn a dancer, Wesley a gentleman enjoying Cordelia's attentions. Giles was conducting the band. Even Oz was there, playing with the band. At Oz's side was the werewolf girl Spike had met ... somewhere. On her shoulder was a very small man with long ears and big teeth, wearing white & black. This didn't seem odd to Spike at all.

And there was another face in the crowd he felt he should know, one hidden by a cloak so that he only caught glimpses. When he could see it, it kept changing, sometimes a very ugly man, sometimes a beautiful woman, sometimes with curly, fair hair, and sometimes silken black. And sometimes he felt he didn't know the face at all, and other times he felt like it was a mirror. He felt ill to look at it, but couldn't pry his eyes away untill it was lost in the crowd. Then he was swept up in the music, and the darkness was forgotten.

Spike knew he should have been shaking the Scoobies and demanding to know what was going on. He also knew he should have been wondering how the inside of the Bronze had gotten so big. Instead he found himself sitting down at one of the booths, enjoying himself. It had been a long time since he'd lost himself in such an atmosphere. A bark from across the table drew his attention from the madness.

It was Cerberus. "She ith coming!"

" _Who_ is coming?" It didn't occur to him to ask the dog how it was he could talk, or how it was he was wearing a tux, and sitting and holding a glass like a man.

The dog smiled and held out his glass. "Have thome!" A bit of thick, red liquid sloshed out in the wooden table.

Spike did as he was told, his question forgotten. The drink was like nothing he'd ever had, like a kiss in a glass. He felt a flush of warmth and didn't even realize he'd been cold. He drank deeply, and felt he had never known life before this. The glass empty, he looked about for more.

He spied a woman. He thought she was far away, but after a moment he realized she was just very small— and right in front of him.

She had tiny black wings that sparkled like the darkest star-filed sky, and wore a black gown that looked something like she'd flown into a spider's web. Her nails were black, her hair, her lips, and her eyes, all spakling like her wings. He found himself getting lost in those eyes,  hungry for her lips -- which he realised wern't black at all, but a deep red, like old blood.

He was about to kiss her, when he was momentarily blinded by a brilliant light. His eyes adjusted, and he saw not the black faery in front of him, but a giant mosquito. The mosquito vanished in a flit of flame. He felt both terribly sad and terribly relieved by the loss.

He turned his attention to the source of the light. It was a girl -- no, a _woman_ , spinning though the air, as if she were jumping through jelly. She landed lightly on her feet, so lightly that he wasn't sure she was not still floating. She was dressed in gold, webbed about her like the faery's gown had been. The gold shone so brightly, it seemed she glowed from within. He could feel the warmth of her light, and it was a thousand times warmer than the drink had been.

She was singing, he realised. Her voice became all he could hear in the crowded room. She sang to the masses, telling them how she would kill them all, smiling as she did. He felt like she was only singing to him. He found he wanted nothing more in the universe than for her to kill him,as she promised. She approached him. She held up her microphone, and he saw it was a wooden stake. She pushed him to the ground and straddled him. She was signing about LOVE, he realised, not death. Or maybe they were the same thing, he thought, as she plunged the stake into his heart.

But just as soon as it was done, she turned away. Something was drawing her away from him as surely as he was now being drawn t _o_ her. He rose to his feet and pulled the stake from his chest. It wasn't a stake at all, he found, but an arrow. The blood that soaked the front of his shirt formed a heart. He laughed, and found the sound was filled with bells.

Cerberus tugged at his coatsleeve. He smiled down at the dog, who stood on two legs and had added a top hat to his ensemble.

"Who is she?" Spike asked.

"Yew know Ewizabef! And yew awso know yew awe not the only one who wanth hew." The dog gestured to the table behind theirs. The dark figure was seated there. Spike felt a chill, and for just a moment found himself cramped inside a long box that smelled of earth. Then the crowd was around him again.

He saw Cerberus trying to wipe a dark red liquid from the dark figure's shirt. Spike looked wildly about for his golden beauty, and found her on the stage next to Giles. Giles was pointing his way. The girl peered at them.

Suddenly. Spike found Cerberus wiping at the blood on his OWN shirt now.

"It ith a contetht between yew and _that_ one ath to who wiw win hew. But I have made awangementh to hewp yew. The stowy _can_ be wewitten."

He was about to ask the little dog what he meant, when he found himself looking at the outside of his crypt door. Something told him this should have been odd, but he didn't question it. He just opened the door and stepped inside.

It wasn't his crypt -- at least, not tha way he'd left it. It was decorated something like Dru would have done, with silks and candles, but cheerier somehow. He didn't bother to wonder who Dru was.

 _She_ was waiting there. "Elizabeth," he breathed, and he knew that wasn't quite right. He wasn't sure if his doubts refered to breathing or her name.

She smiled, her eyes smoldering. He suddenly found he was fightened. He moved to sweep his hair back from his own eyes and noticed absently that his hair was longer and a shade darker than it had been earlier that night. He was also wearing clothes that were about a century behind the times, rather than his trademark duster.

He didn't care. All he cared about was the way she looked at him, and tried to find the courage inside himself to do domething about it. He might have also noticed that Cerberus was hanging outside the window, but again didn't care. But he did _listen_ to the little dog.

"Tew hew the poetwy!"

"Uh.. I-t's a little bit funny ..."

"What is?" she giggled.

"This.. this feeling ..." he blushed. "insi—" his voiced cracked. "—inside."

"Oh, well I can take care of that!" And she began to undo his belt.

He wrestled out of her grasp, refusing to be distracted, determined to get through to her. He wasn't just some John! "I-Im not one of th-those who can.. easily hi-hide!"

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a playful, reprimanding look. "You're certainly determined to give it a good go, though, aren't you!" She grabbed ahold of him again.

"I don't have much money ..."

"It's your _blood_ I'm after!"

"I-I don't have much of that either! But If I did, I'd ... buy a big house, where we both could live!"

She gave him a blank look. " _HUH?_ " she added for emphasis.

He managed to squirm out of her grasp while she was distraced."I-if I were a ... _sculptor_ ...." He thought about it, then shook his head. "But then again, no ..." His face lit up with an idea, and he approached her, excited. "Or a man, who makes ... poitions! In a ... _travelling show!_ "

She stepped back, looking a bit disgusted. She sat down on the bed, dejected. She pulled an emry board out of nowhere, and set to fling her nails.

Crestfallen,e hung his head, eyes divided between her and the floor. He shruged, helplessly. "I know it's not much, but ... it's the best I can do!"

She ignored him.

Desparate, he got much louder. " _My gift is my song!_ "

 _That_ got her attention. She stopped and stared at him, puzzled.

"And this one's for you," he breathed. He sat down next to her.

" _And you can tell everybody_  
_this is your song_  
_It may be quite simple but_  
_now that it's done_

 _"I hope you don't mind_  
_I hope you don't mind_  
_that I put down in words ..._  
_how wonderful life is_  
_when you're in the world ...._ "

She had remained still, the only movement the glistening of tears in her eyes, but now she stopped him with a finger to his lips. She shook her head sadly. "I'm not _in_ the world anymore," she told him. "I belong to _that_ one."

She pointed to a corner that was not lit by the candles. Out of it stepped the dark figure.

Spike stepped in front of his golden girl, protectively.

"YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!"

"I already do," the figure said, in a hundred voices he knew and despised. The figure pulled back it's hood. It was a goth chick, one he was sure he'd never seen before, yet was also certain he knew.

"Suwey befow yew wewe meant tew, sithtew deaw."

It took Spike a moment to translate the words. _Surely before you were meant to, sister dear._ He turned to the speaker; it was Cerberus.

Well, it was Cerberus for a few seconds, Then the dog transformed. Not a gradual change, either: one moment, it was Cerberus, the next a lanky young man with blond hair, wearing a robe.

The goth girl's eyes narrowed at this new prescence. "She _chose_ this, Daniel."

"A hasty decision. Shall all the world suffer for it?"

"IT IS ALREADY WRITTEN! It is in our dear brother's book!"

The one called Daniel shrugged. "The past is set in stone, but the ink still dries on the future. All the miracles this girl has been privy to, that she herself has been party to .... well, what's one more miracle?"

The goth pursed her lips. Then, "If _she_ wants it. She _has_ to want it."

Daniel smiled. He looked at Spike. "It's up to _you_ , now. You must convice 'Elizabeth' that your world is _worth_ returning to."

Spike felt the desparation sweep over him again, threatening to drown him. It seemed a familiar sensation, like the caress of an old friend. It took everything he had to not give in. He _had_ to get her to listen.

"Elizabeth, I _love_ you! _Please_ come back! We _need_ you!"

"Hah! _Love?_ How could you love? You don't even have a _soul_. What can _you_ offer me? What kind of life could I have with you, when you aren't even _alive?_ "

He grabbed her arms and pulled her close. " _You_ make me alive! You make me a better being _because_ I love you! I stopped being a monster, and so did Angel, for love of _you!_ Love is a many splendored thing, love keeps us together, love lifts us up where we belong, all you _need_ is love! Not blood, LOVE!"

Elizabeth rolled her eye sand shrugged out of his arms. "Puhlease."

" _All you need is love!_ " he sang.

"A girl has got to eat ..." she replied, walking out of the crypt and into the graveyard.

" _All you neeed is love!_ " he continued, following.

"I'll not be a vamp on the street!" she told him.

" _All you need is love!_ " he insisted, drawing out the words.

She stopped and faced him. " _Love is just a game_ to you!" she poked him the chest.

" _I was made for lovin' you baby, and you were made for lovin me!_ "

"The only way that you know love baby is if you were to _drain_ me!" She continued to walk.

" _Just one night, give me just one night!_ " he followed, tripping over a low tombstone.

" _There's no way, 'till you can face the day!_ "

" _In the name of love! One night in the name of love!_ "

" _You crazy fool! I won't ..._ " she stabbed his chest with a finger, " _give in ... to you!_ "

" _Don't,_ " he took her back in his arms, " _leave me this way! I can't survive without your sweet love! Oh baby,_ " he breathed into her hair, " _Don't leave me this way ...._ "

" _You'd think that people had had enough of silly love songs!_ "

He laughed. " _I look around me, and I see it isn't so! Oh, no!_ "

" _Some people wanna fill the world with silly love songs ...._ " she breathed, as his lips drew near hers.

" _Well what's wrong with that?_ " he whispered. " _I'd like to know ...._ "

She realised what she was about to do and pulled away.

" _... 'cause here I go,_ " he bit back his frustration, his voice raising, " _again! Love lifts us up where we belong!_ " he argued. " _Where eagles fly!_ " He waved a hand skyward. " _On a mountain high!_ "

" _Love makes us act like we are fools!_ " she countered. "Throw our lives away, for one happy day!" she added bitterly, eyes filling with tears. She turned away.

" _WE COULD BE HEROES!_ "

That caught her. She turned back to him, eyes uncertain.

" _Just for one day ...._ " he continued.

" _You, you will be mean!_ " she protested.

"No," he laughed, "I wont!" And somehow they both knew he spoke truth.

She still tried to fight it. " _And I ... I'll drink all the time!_ "

"I think that's my job, love ..." he murmered. " _WE SHOULD BE LOVERS!_ " He declared, his fear gone.

She shook her head sadly. " _We can't do that._ "

" _We should be lovers, and that's a fact!_ " he insisted.

" _No, nothing would keep us together!_ " she countered.

" _We could steal time, just for one day! We could be heroes, forever and ever!_ " He sang it again, cradling her head in his hands, forcing to to listen and accept. " _WE COULD BE HEROOOOOOES, FOREVER AND EVEEER!_ "

Her resolve apparently fell under the assault of his enthusiasm; she sang with him: " _We could be heroes, forever and ever!_ "

He went on,"... _because I will always love you!_ " It felt so good to say it this way, to be holding her ....

And then she made him feel like he could fly as she confessed, " _Yes, I can't help loving ..._ "

" _...you!_ " they sang together.

" _How wonderful life is, when you're in the world ...._ " she whispered, lips just moments from his.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

And then he woke up with a start, sweating and panting. When he realised it was just a dream, he let out a howl that sent little children walking past the graveyard on their way to school screaming for their mothers.

Spike felt cold and empty as he watched the sun crawling along the floor, pushing it's way through the slats that bordered his window. Cerberus whined and licked the tears from his friend's face. Spike smiled halfheartedly at the well-meaning critter.

Then he realised the radio was still playing.

" _I will love you until the end of time ...._ " the song whispered.

His heart wrenched. It sounded just like Buffy. Then he thought he saw her, standing in the sun, out of the corner of his eye. But of course, when he looked, nothing was there but floating dust. The music had stopped too. He looked at it, and found the radio wasn't turned on. It wasn't even warm from use. He opened the battery compartment, and found a note inside.

"Spike-" it said in a teen's scrawl, " _I hope you don't mind; my walkman's battery died, so I borrowed these! Thanks! Luv, Dawn._ "

He looked to his dog, remembering the role the animal had played in his dream.

"Boy ... did you ...?"

Cerberus only lolled his tongue and wagged his tail happily. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream of the Endless is the Sandman. Daniel is one incarnation of him. Basically, the whole scenario is something Daniel arranged to convince his sister, Death, to resurrect Buffy, by giving Spike the chance to talk to her and convince her top return, the dreamworld being a place that straddles the lands of the living and of the dead.


	5. Spike and Cerberus Out for a Bite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike is starving. What will this mean for the Scoobies?

Cerberus sat sniffing the air as they sat outside the hospital. Spike gave him an absentminded scratch behind the ears.

"I know yer 'ungry, mate, so'm I. Haven't exactly had time to do any 'shopping' lately, what with things being so busy. Too bad demon nasties _taste_ nasty too, eh?" He surveyed the frantic scene. There were at least a dozen ambulances swarming around the entrance, doctors and paramedics milling about like ants. "Looks like we arrived just in time." He moved towards the excitement.

Cerberus started to follow.

"AH, ah, ah! None o' that now, mate, we been over this! No doggies in the nice, hygienic 'ospital!"

Cerberus whined.

"Sit!"

The dog obeyed after a slight pause.

"Stay!" He looked over his shoulder a few times as he walked on, just to make sure the dog obeyed. Cerberus had laid down and was giving him a sorrowful look. Spike just hoped no one stopped to pet him, thinking he was a "cute doggy" — they might end up as the vampdog's equivalent of kibble.

It was nothing for Spike to walk on in through the scrambling figures. Something about being a vamp made it so people didn't tend to notice you unless you  _wanted_ them to, and tonight that ability was helped by the confusion.

It looked like there had been a nasty accident. He lost count of the sheer numbers of gurneys he saw being rushed through the door. There were also walking wounded, cradling maimed limbs and head wounds. He tried not to look at the tragic figures as he walked through the hall. He was headed for the blood bank to make a withdrawal. He was almost there when he caught a snippet of conversation between two doctors.

"What do you mean, we're almost _out?!_ "

"I _mean_ , if we don't get some here soon, people are going to die! _Three different_ multi-car pile-ups in one night?!? It's unheard of! And now we find that we're _missing_ some of our blood?!?"

Run out of blood? Did he hear her right? He felt a twinge of panic. He'd had a nasty run-in with a pack of vamps; he'd won, but he'd suffered heavy hits, lost a lot of blood. The supermarket was closed, and he was out of pig’s blood. He hadn’t been buying it much, trying to stretch his money. He didn’t want to borrow from the Scoobies, and yet he didn’t feel right stealing anymore, not when he was looking after Dawn. He felt like he needed to behave himself, for her sake.

The smell of so much of the red liquid around the hospital was threatening to overwhelm him. He hurried out again, passing a multitude of shattered bodies waiting to be healed, leaking their precious fluid all over as they did. He felt another twinge, one that felt more like guilt than hunger, and wondered why. He generally didn't care about any human's state of mortality — after all, he was dead, and it wasn't so bad. But tonight he felt ... _bad_ for these people. For the children who might loose a parent, or the parents who might loose a child. And not for food, which was the way of things. For having a very bad day. What had happened to them was completely pointless, just some bloke's carelessness. The idea of such horrible things happening to you, out of the blue and for no reason at all, made him ill. He might be dead, but he liked to believe life had a purpose (even if it was just to feed something else).

It was only a momentary reflection, though, pushed aside by his growing need as he left the building and made for his faithful companion. He had told Giles once that a starved vamp was a pathetic creature, all skin and bones and no brains. He knew Xander might say it would be hard for ol' Big Bad to get anymore pathetic, but he was fast on his way there. He could feel his bones jutting out under his skin, knew without being able to look in a mirror that his cheeks were more sunken than usual, his skin more pale.

Cerberus was a little better off, but not much. He could see the poor pup's ribs quite well. Spike had let the dog have all the rats in their cemetery the past few days — normally they shared — but even those were becoming scarce.

He made a decision. He hated to do it, knew it was bad news to remind the Scoobies that he was a bloodsucker, but he had to ask them for help, for Cerberus' sake. Not to mention it wasn't too easy for him to protect Dawn if he was in such bad shape himself.

As if to emphasise the point, he began to swoon as they made their way down the street. He ducked into an alley and sat down, hoping in a moment his head would stop spinning. He expected to have to fend off Cerberus' tongue once he was within the dog's reach, but the pup ignored him. He was sniffing and tearing excitedly at something further down the narrow walkway.

Spike tried to get up to see what it was, and found he couldn't. He was getting "the shakes", the vampire version of withdrawal. For them, blood was more than food; it was a drug that lifted them to new heights of the senses. To drink was like making love; to feel the blood coursing through you was an upper that put you on top of the world. A vampire was a nymphomaniac, a drug addict, and a starving man all in one neat little package.

He managed to drag himself towards what Cerberus was finding so interesting. Sensing his friend's need, the dog grabbed a hold of Spike's duster in his teeth, and began to tug. For a living dog of that size, it would have been a pointless effort, a laughable scene, but the vamp dog succeeded where mortal dogs would have failed, getting Spike where he wanted him.

And then it hit Spike, the scent of fresh blood. He found himself looking at a body, one he was relatively certain was dead; vamps had a sixth sense about such things. He didn't even give himself a chance to think about it as he grabbed the man's wrist and started to drink.

It was the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

At first he thought it was just because he was so hungry, and the blood so fresh. As he looked over the body while he drank, he thought then that maybe it was the man's diet. The body was dressed to the nines in a silver shirt and well-cut black pants. Undoubtedly, the man had come out of the club down the street, known for catering yuppies who wanted a taste of the rough part of town, and had gotten himself mugged. But as Spike drew near to finishing the body he realized what the real reason was. The man had been drugged out of his mind, most likely on heroin or even cocaine, judging by his economic status. And now so was Spike.

He felt gooooooood!

If he had been in better control of his faculties, he wouldn't have offered the rest of the corpse to the dog. If he hadn't been starved out of his mind when he found the body, he would've realised what the problem was earlier and stopped. He'd learned long ago to be more discriminating about whom he ate.

The phrase "you are what you eat" was ever true, even for vamps. If a vamp drank from a drunk, he'd find himself tipsy. And, like drinking beer on an empty stomach, it hit you faster, harder if you were starved. During hard times once, Spike and Dry had shared a wino, one who'd drunk so much, he had alcohol poisoning. It took a lot of alcohol to get a vamp drunk, but this was like taking an injection of it. Spike and Dru were sloshed. And because they were, they got the tar beat out of them by another group of vamps. Later Angelus had also got his licks in, punishing them for drawing attention to themselves. Spike vowed never to weaken himself like that again, and largely stayed away from drunks, as well as opium addicts. That vow had broadened as the variety of drugs available grew (he hadn't known what he was getting into at Woodstock).

Now he was rethinking his vow. He hadn't felt so nice since ... Since Buffy had kissed him!

The night seemed brighter, somehow, more colourful. The smells were sharper. The feel of his coat on his skin was like a lover's caress. All was right with the world, and he felt strong enough to lift it up and take it home.

Cerberus was bouncing off the walls — literally. He was doing flips, chasing his tail, yipping hysterically. Suddenly, he made a mad dash out of the mouth of the alley. Curious, Spike laughed and followed. He wasn't afraid of anything!

"—just saying it would have been a lot easier if he had come with, and it's not like him to not show up when he says he will!" That was Dawn!

He heard Cerberus barking happily.

"Hey! It's Cerbie!" Willow.

The barks became growls.

"Whoa! Hey boy, it's us!" Dawn again.

"I _knew_ it was a bad idea to let Spike keep him! It's like having rabies!" Giles. The old sod.

"He's jus' ma-aaad," Spike told them as he rounded the corner of the alley and came out onto the street. "He don' like bein' called 'Cerbie', do ya boy?"

The dog raced mad circles around the vamp, eyes wild and tongue lolling. He _looked_ like he was rabid. Spike giggled.

Dawn raced up to him, calling to him, "Spike! where have you been?!?" She stopped short when she got close.

Spike smacked his head. "I'm sorry, sweet bit! I needed to do a li'l grocery shoppin', as it were."

"Look's like you were a bit messy with a bag, pal. S'okay, I always had a problem with the Capri Sun bags myself ...." she told him.

Spike laughed, and there was a bit of a hysterical edge to it. Giles and Willow stopped when they heard it, the hair rising on their arms. "What are you goin' on about, Nibblet?"

"Um.." Willow motioned in a circular fashion to her mouth. "You've ... you've got a.. a blood mustache."

"Oh? Boy, have I got egg on _my_ face!" Spike laughed as he wiped it off. It left a pink stain. "Or I guess that's ' _blood_ on my face'!" He laughed far more than the joke merited.

"Dawn. Come here." Giles stepped in front of Willow and gestured for the younger girl to come back.

Spike was vaguely aware that that act should bother him, but it didn't.

"Oooh, scared for your little girls, mister? Well, _he's_ not the one you should be worried about!"

The voice came from behind Spike. It belonged to a burly street tough, who was accompanied by three similar thugs. They all had knives out.

"Oooooh! Dessert!" Spike quipped happily. Cerberus began licking his chops.

They made short work of the muggers. Spike felt an odd buzz as his chip kicked in, but he thought it felt good. He didn't realise that the drug had deadened his nerves temporarily. The last thing he felt before the jolt knocked him out cold was the crunch of his fangs in one guy's neck and the warmth of the liquid as it flowed over his lips.

 

SSSSSSSSSS

He woke up back in his crypt. It wasn't an abrupt awakening, more like slowly coming out of a fog. He could hear the people talking, but had no idea who they were — or  _he_ was, for that matter. The voices sounded muffled, like there was a wall separating them.

"—just CAN'T!!! You _know_ he's changed! What does he have to do to prove himself to you?!?"

"Once a vamp, always a vamp, Dawn. He swore to protect you, but we can't even leave him alone with you now!"

"But Xander, he _saved_ us!"

"Yes, well, he might only have been fighting because he found it entertaining, not out of any sense of duty to us ...."

"How can you say that, Giles?!? How can you just turn a blind eye to all he's done for us?!? FOR ME?!?" The girl's voice was hysterical.

"BECAUSE I CAN REMEMBER WHAT HE WAS BEFORE!" came the angry reply. There was a long silence.

Then, another woman's voice said, "So we dust him just like that? No trial? He hasn't tried to hurt _us_ ...."

"And what about Cerberus, Willow?" Giles snapped. "You saw how he acted towards us. I told Spike we couldn't trust a vampire dog; we couldn't even trust  _him_ without the chip! And now it looks like the chip isn't working anymore."

"But it DID!" cried the girl. "Why do you think we had to carry him back here?"

"But it didn't keep him from killing!"

"Um, not to defend a vampire, here, but Buffy killed things," said another woman's voice. "A lot! We put it on her tombstone!" she added cheerfully.

"' _Saved the world a lot_ ', Anya, not 'KILLED THINGS a lot'!" pointed out the one called Xander.

"Oh, whatever!" Anya snapped. "You had a hamburger for lunch!"

Another pause. "What has that to do with anything?"

"You ate a living thing!"

" ... It was dead when I ate it!"

"So let's go kill the guy who killed it for you!"

"What are you talking about?!?"

"So Spike killed the guy himself, and cut out the middleman! He was eating! He has a right to eat!"

"He ate a _person_ , Anya! Not a cow! I thought the whole reason who did the vampire-hunting shtick was because they kill _people!_ "

"We hunt them to _defend_ ourselves .... and, well, simply because they are evil demons. but I think Spike is reformed. Like _me_."

"But you're human!"

"So what, we go kill Angel too, then? Or Oz maybe?" asked Willow.

"So we wait until he's _killed_ one of us?" Giles retorted.

"Yes. That's exactly what we do," another woman said. "Because Buffy trusted him with Dawn's life! And I trusted _her_."

That brought Spike around. He remembered who Buffy was, and then himself and the others. And realised they were talking about dusting him. _And_ his dog. He felt Cerberus in the tomb with him, and hugged the dog close. "Don't worry, boy ... whatever happens, I won't let them hurt you!" He whispered.

"Tara's right!" Willow, of course.

"Yeah!" Anya added.

Spike moved the lid of his tomb; the voices had been muffled because it was closed. He raised his hands in an "I'm unarmed" posture as he sat up. "I can explain everything." And he did.

"So essentially what you're telling us is that you've discovered a way to circumvent the chip?" Giles stated more than asked. " _Two_ ways, actually. Either you have Cerberus do the killing for you or you get drugged up first."

"It was an _accident!_ "

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Spike sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, hoping the others wouldn't notice that his eyes were tearing up. "Look, I don't know what else to say. Kill me if you have to, but don't kill Cerberus."

 

GGGGG

"You must be joking." The Watcher's laughter held no humor. "He's even more dangerous than you!"

" _Not_ if he's somewhere where there are no people! Contact Angel, he can take him to ... I don't know, sodding Australia!" There was no mistaking the note of desperation in Spike's voice.

Giles regarded his (former?) mortal enemy. Tara had a point. Buffy had originally been all for dusting the bleached-blonde, but could never seem to bring herself to do it. And in the end, she _had_ trusted him with Dawn's life. He had _failed_ , but not for a lack of trying. Giles thought about what Buffy had told him of her encounter with Spike after Glory had gotten her claws in him. How he had thought she was the 'Bot, and told her he'd rather die than see her suffer. Why would he lie to a robot? He thought about how the vampire had been inconsolable when Buffy had died. No, you couldn't fake that, and even if he could, why bother? For the hope that someday he might be free of the chip and have them all for dinner? If that were his game plan, he could have killed them all earlier that night but didn't even try, had even stopped Cerberus from harming them. Giles thought about the old Spike, the killer. Even "evil Spike" had, in his own way, done the things he did out of a sense of love and devotion — towards Dru. Maybe Giles was wrong in assuming that all demons were inherently evil. Certainly humans, who  _had_ souls, were not inherently good ....

And if Giles could forgive Angel, who'd killed his beloved Jenny, couldn't he do the same for this demon who had never really harmed them (though not for a lack of trying in the beginning), despite numerous opportunities? One who had actually taken numerous and often severe injuries, all to protect the Slayer, the one whose purpose it was to kill his kind?

Giles heard the incongruous sound of laughter and saw Cerberus getting a thorough belly-scratching from Xander and the girls, simultaneously trying to lick them all. He remembered what Spike had said about the dog seeing them all as "pack". He thought of how vamps killed to eat like any other creature, driven by the need to live. Perhaps instinct told Cerberus to protect the pack because there was safety in numbers. Did that mean they could indeed trust the dog, if only because of his own self-interest? Giles knew a little about "dog psychology". They were sticklers for hierarchy. They showed their vulnerable underside to those who were above them in the pecking order, a gesture of trust and submission. Just as the dog was doing now, baring his belly to the girls. If he meant them harm, surely he wouldn't be submitting to them, but rather demonstrating dominance ....

And Giles realised that Spike had done the same. He had bared all to the group, letting them see his "vulnerable" side in the love he had shown for Buffy and the affection he showed Dawn. No, they had nothing to fear from the vamp, with or without the chip. Maybe he was a bit of an outcast, an omega, but he hung out around the outskirts of the pack because he wanted to  _join_ them .... Being the "alpha", with Buffy being gone, it was to Giles to decide his fate. He thought about what Buffy would have done. What she had _already_ done. She had accepted the vamp. Gikes could do no less.

He found Spike watching him intently. The vamp quickly hung his head, looking nervously up for only brief glances. Like a lower wolf that won't meet the alpha's eyes. To meet eyes was to challenge. His posture instead said, _I accept whatever fate you give me._

"All right, Spike. You both can stay in Sunnydale. For now, though, I would feel more comfortable if you didn't spend time Dawn alone."

The vamp swallowed and nodded, eyes downcast.

Giles stepped over and leaned against the tomb. They both watched the others, still playing with the dog. He said quietly, "And I'll see what I can do about getting you a steady supply of food from the hospital."

Spike did meet his eyes this time, the gratitude plain on his face.

 

SSSSSSSSSSS

The old Spike would have been thinking about how he might get a hold of more drugs, finally having the key to beat his handicap. Or been planning to try out Cerberus' hunting skills on a human. But Spike was truly just relieved and grateful. He would not contemplate anything that might loose him his tentative place with the only family he had now.

And he found, strangely, that he didn't want to. Humans ate most of their food in convenient little packages; why shouldn't he? It beat having to do any work, right? Besides, it made more sense to let the food supply remain living, like a milk cow. He remembered reading once that, when you ate an animal that had died a terrifying death, the meat contained the chemicals of fear and aggression, passing them on to you. So if the prey gave the blood voluntarily, didn't that mean it was ... happier blood? And that would make him a happier being? That surely helped explain his change in attitude since he had stopped feeding off people! So wasn't that better than being angry and upset all the time? Better than having to work for his food? Better than the false happiness that drug addict had sought, which left you feeling worse than when you started?

Dawn looked up from their antics and smiled at him, a smile that reflected her namesake in every way. For a moment he thought he could see Buffy smiling back at him from behind her eyes.

Yes, this _was_ better.

 


	6. Spike and Cerberus Go for a Mindwalk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cerberus demonstrates a new talent, and metaphysical lessons are learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is another BtVS/A:TS crossover featuring Oz, Angel, and Lorne, the Host. It's a sequel of sorts (beyond the fact that it's a part of a series, I mean) to "Spike & Cerberus Join the Circus" (the circus is back), and "Spike & Cerberus in L.A." (Lydia is back, and they are in L.A. again).
> 
> It's also a nod to the movie _Mindwalk_ , which was basically a 2-hour long philosophical discussion about history, physics, and the environment. I swear this story has a lot more action than that! It's just that this story is meant to make you think too, about the nature of life, death, and souls. And if you ever get a chance, check out that movie — I know it sounds dull, but it made me think, still effects me to this day even, and taught me a lot about physics in layman's terms. 
> 
> Oh, and as for Lydia being so knowledgable for her age, chalk it up to having been raised with full disclosure of her family's bloodline and the supernatural world in general. and just accept her for the info-providing plot device that she is. :P

The club was packed when Spike & his canine companion came in. Spike felt a momentary surge of pride, thinking everyone had come there to see him, but the sound of music from the stage reminded him that he wasn't the only act. He scanned the crowd for the familiar head of short-cropped black hair and found it towards the stage. He swaggered over to the man's table and plopped down unceremoniously on a chair next to him. Angel smiled over his bloody mary.

"I don't recall inviting you to sit down, youngster."

"Sorry, gramps, but you know 'ow impetuous we rowdy youth are, 'ey?"

Angel gave Cerberus a thorough scratching behind the ears. "Hiya, boy! Awww, yer such a good doggie, yes you are!"

"C'mon, then, don't spoil 'im. Cerberus, go in back now, you know you ain't allowed in 'ere ...."

The dog ignored his master in favor of the attentions of the other vamp.

" _Cerberus_ ...." Spike warned him in a no-nonsense tone.

The dog stopped his happy panting, staying wide-eyed and perfectly still for a moment. Then he bolted, yipping, for backstage.

Both vamps stared nonplussed at the dog's retreat. Spike straightened his shirt. "Well, I ... guess I told 'im!"

His eyes changed focus from the curtain behind the stage to the figure on it. It was a girl, eighteenish, with a thick, raven-black, waist-length mane. She sang very well, even if it wasn't the sort of music Spike preferred. She was singing to a karaoke recroding of Madonna's "Cherish". She looked familiar somehow, but not strongly so; maybe he'd seen her in passing in the club before. He thought she had a strange fur stole over her shoulder, until he saw it twitch.

It was a rabbit.

A _live_ one.

Or rather, an undead one.

 _Now_ he remembered who she was. He also now knew why Cerberus had bolted. Not long ago, they had met the girl in question at this very club. She was a werewolf, and had been out seeking revenge against the vamp who'd turned her pet rabbit. Unfortunately, Angel had beaten her to the punch. She was amiable enough about it, but her rabbit was not so friendly: the vicious bunny had given the poor pup a nasty chomp in the nose, a la _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_.

Spike saw another familiar face out of the corner of his eye: a shock of red hair at the table next to them that turned out to belong tp Willow's old flame, Oz.

Spike was wary of a confrontation, but since Angel sat closer to the boy, Oz saw Spike's grandsire first and gave a friendly hello. Then Oz noticed Spike — but to the vamp's relief, he didn't flip out. He instead quite casually asked Angel, "So, you gone all Angelus-y again, or did _he_ get a soul?"

Spike remembered then that the wolf-boy was typically very easygoing about everything, without even being on any drugs. Spike decided it was probably a necessity, keeping calm so he didn't "wolf out".

Angel laughed at the werewolf's question. "No, and not exactly. Let's just say that Buffy touched a lot of lives ...." The smile stayed, but turned melancholy.

Oz apparently picked up on Angel's — and Spike's — sudden somber mood. "She's gone, isn't she?" the werewolf asked; Spike had forgotten that Willow hadn't been in touch with the werewolf much since she'd switched teams.

Angel only nodded.

Feeling awkward, Spike decided to change the subject. "So, ah ... what you been up to?"

Oz shrugged. "I've been all over, learning about different philosophies, different ways to meditate and become one with everything. So. You _loved_  Buffy -- like, <I>love</i>-loved, not just like a friend?"

Spike felt his throat tighten, and could only nod. It was getting unsettling how perceptive the boy was! Suddenly Spike wished he'd stayed home ....

"H-how ... how is, um, Willow doing?" Oz asked hesitantly.

Spike almost felt a bit of satisfaction at seeing the wolf-boy out of sorts. _Almost._ But then, he knew what it was to love and not be loved back.

"She's good, mate. Was a bit hard, losing Buffy, for all of us, but we got through the worst of it. Still, might do 'er good t'see a friendly face — you should go see 'er."

The girl onstage finished her set, and Spike and his companions clapped enthusiastically, even though none of them had really been listening.

"I'm up," Oz told them, pulling his guitar out from behind the table.

The girl settled herself into the table Oz had vacated. She watched him, entranced. No doubt she knew what he was.

For his part, Oz seemed to be making every effort not to notice her.

When his set was done, Oz sat instead at Angel's table, while Spike went up. The girl was clearly disappointed. From the stage, Spike saw that she was still staring at the wolfboy, and her rabbit seemed irked by her lack of attention ....

Spike was halfway through his second set when a battle began. It was completely without provocation, too: one minute the crowd was sitting peacefully, apparently enjoying the music, and the next demons from several of the tables got up and started pummeling their neighbors. Spike, for his part, managed to take down a couple before he took a hit to the back of the head. The last thing he saw before the world turned dark was a pair of men towards the back of the room, one tall and thin, the other short and stout, laughing at the carnage around them. They looked familiar ...

 

CCCCCCCCC

Cerberus whined as he awoke under a table. He had run out from backstage when he saw his friend getting attacked, and set to protecting the vampman, only to find himself immediately struck fiercely on the head by a bat, then and viciously kicked, sliding all the way under the table.

As he gathered his senses, he found he was not alone. The vampbunny was there too, staring at him with strange blue eyes. It wasn't wearing its game-face, which he remembered had gold eyes like every other vamp. He stood to face it, watching it warily. Did it want to fight or not?

**Our friends have been taken,** it informed him, its mind-voice sounding like it wasn't sure Cerberus was bright enough to understand. He bristled at that; only humans had forgotten how to mind-speak, but this creature seemed to be insinuating that dogs had as well.

Still, Cerberus was no fool. He put aside his anger and reached out his senses. The room was deathly still, the smells of the room's former occupants made faint by their absence and the settling dust. He cautiously stuck his head out from under the table; sure enough, no one was there.

Cerberus pulled his head back under and addressed the rabbit. **Do you know where?**

The rabbit's mental voice sounded astonished. **Don't you?**

The vampdog snarled, irritated. **How could I? I was _unconscious!_ What about you? If you know, you must have been awake when they left — why didn't you follow?**

**I _wasn't_ awake; like you, I got a nasty kick halfway through the battle and woke up here.** It was Cerberus's turn to be confused. **Then how do you know?**

The bunny gave a mental shrug. **The bond, of course!**

**... Bond?**

The bunny huffed. **Isn't that vampman your familiar?**

**... Familiar?**

Somehow the rabbit managed to give the dog an incredulous look with lapine facial features. **I had gotten the impression you were close to the man ... don't dogs look at their humans as familiars? As their spiritual bond to the human race and companion in magical studies? Lydia is my familiar and I am hers. We are soul-bound. I can follow the bond to where she is.**

Cerberus felt a pang of sorrow. He had heard of such a thing, heard other dogs speaking of such bonds with awe and reverence. He thought Spike and himself were close like that, but now it sounded like he was supposed to have some psychic connectiom that allowed him to share the man's thoughts and feel what he felt. Instead, he had no idea where the man was or how he was doing, which suggested that he and Spike _weren't_ bonded.

He shook his head. It didn't matter that he wasn't Spike's familiar; he was still his friend. And he would never get the chance to _try_ to soul-bond if he didn't find him first. **So why are you still here?** he asked the rabbit, thinking that he himself would be off like a lightning bolt if only he knew where to go.

**I'm a little too small to be taking on all our enemies alone. Not that I think you'll be much more help, but you're something, at least. So I propose a truce. Let us put aside the natural animosities of our species, and concentrate on the fact that we are both vamps now. I drink blood just like you.**

Cerberus pranced antsily. **Just lead me to my friends.**

 

SSSSSSSSSSS

Spike groaned as he came to, his eyes focusing on the ceiling of a tent. Not this place again! Now he knew why those two men had been familiar; they were the same men who ran the demon circus and had abducted Spike and Cerberus for it. Spike glanced around for a sign of his canine compatriot. He had to stop and close his eyes after a moment, head swimming from the effort. He hadn't seen the dog, but there were other occupants: Angel, Oz, Lorne, and the girl performer (what had Lorne called her, Lydia?), as well as a bunch of other demons he didn't know. Aside from Spike, only the girl seemed to be awake.

A slight rustling and a breeze from the left made him open his eyes again. The ringmasters stood in front of him. The taller one spoke.

"G'd mornin', Sunshoine! 'Ow's that lovely money-makin' 'ead o' yers?"

Spike didn't grant them a reply, but stared at them blankly.

"Surely you remember us?" asked the short one.

Spike tried to lunge at them, and slammed against an invisible barrier of some sort. "Don't call me 'Shirley'," he muttered, defeated. That made his captors laugh heartily. That was good; so long as they were laughing, they probably wouldn't hit him.

"Ah, ve are so happy to have you back, comrade! And now ve have infamous Angel, and two verevolves to boot! Now if only ve had managed to catch wampire bunny and your doggie .... Ahh, but I'm sure ve vill find dem soon enough, nyet? Dey vill come looking for deir masters, and vhen dey do ..." He slapped his hands together, and he and his partner laughed cruelly. They were still laughing as they left.

Spike let out a sigh of relief. Cerberus was free! He prayed to whatever might be listening that the dog _stayed_ that way.

Lydia's thoughts echoed his own. "Nicky is still free!" she breathed. "Thank the Goddess!" She turned her head and smiled at the vamp. "Don't worry, Nicky will get us out." She laughed, apparently at the incredulous look Spike gave her; the sound woke Oz, Angel, and Lorne. "Don't get me wrong — it's the nature of a prey species to be excellent escape artists, but it could only be easier for him to get _us_ free if he's already loose to start," she elaborated.

Spike sighed. "It's a good thing I'm already dead, cause I think we have a long wait a head of us."

Lorne held a hand to his head. "How does this keep happening? The spell is supposed to kepp demons from fighting inside Caratos! And I had it reinforced after the last time, too!"

"I've dealt with these blokes before," Spike told him. "They're masters at penning demons; they probably know all sorts of ways to disable magical shields, too."

"And as for that other time, I'd say it was a combination of the shield being weakened by prolonged use — you do have to re-energise them now and again, you know — and the fact that my Nicky and Spike's dog are animals," Lydia chimed in.

Lorne looked puzzled. "What has that to do with anything?"

"Well, I know from experience that animals can go through a Circle of protection, presumably because of their innocence — I'm guessing they were able to deny the spell over your club the same way. And after they started fighting each other, it probably short-circuted the spell, allowing others to overcome  as well."

"That does it; no more livestock in the club!" Lorne muttered.

Lydia seemed to contemplate Spike for a moment. "About what you said a moment ago ... I'll never understand why vampires are referred to as being 'dead'. If you were dead, you wouldn't be talking to me right now."

"Well fine, 'undead' then. Point is, I can't die again."

"Sure you can. Someone stakes you or you step out into sunlight or drown in a tub of holy water ...."

Spike shuddered, and he felt Angel beside him do the same. That last was a demise he hadn't ever contemplated. "Yeah, but that's not the same!" Angel told the girl.

"Why not?"

"Uh, well ... because ..." He looked at Spike, exasperated. "Help me out, here!"

Spike shrugged. He'd never really thought about it before. "I ... guess because we don't need to breathe, and our hearts don't need to beat?"

"But they _can_ , right?" she asked. Spike nodded; Angel shook his head.

"He lacks imagination," Spike explained.

"Hey!" Angel protested.

"He's so wrapped up in the folklore," Spike continued, "it's never occured to him that he must be able to inhale and exhale to talk. No, instead he lets Xander give his girl mouth to mouth. You do understand that you giving her CPR would have been better because you wouldn't have taken any oxygen from the air first before exhalin'?"

Angel looked gobsmacked. "Er ... well, still, our hearts don't beat!" he insisted.

"Well, that's a pretty trick — 'ow do you get it up without circulation, pray tell?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. " _So_. Whether your heart can beat or not, can corpses breathe? Make conversation? Walk around? Do corpses need sustenance, blood or otherwise?"

The vamps blinked at each other.

"Besides, I'm sure there are some beings in the universe that live without heartbeats and breath," she added.

"Amoeba?" Lorne offered helpfully.

Lydia nodded, smiling. "At least, they don't have hearts or lungs in the normal sense, although they do 'breathe' and have circulation in an abstract fashion. But elsewhere in the universe there could be energy lifeforms that don't even do that!"

"Ok, Star Trek episodes aside, the point is that our once-human bodies no longer have to do the things that were necessary to keep them 'alive'." Spike told her, believing that settled the matter.

"Besides," Oz piped up, "in most cultures being alive means having a soul. Vampires, by definition, don't have one."

"Well, then I guess 'Gramps' here _is_ alive," Spike quipped.

"And whose definition is that?" the girl asked the wolfboy quietly, scrutinizing him.

"I don't know who originally said so, but I know firsthand that it's true vamps are soulless. I mean, surem like Spike said, this one here," he waved a thumb at Angel, "has a soul _now_ , but he lost it when he was turned. And recently, it was taken away for a while, and he became evil — and turned good again when he got it back. And when he has a soul, he doesn't eat people."

Angel squirmed uncomfortably; Spike grinned.

Lydia chuckled, shaking her head. "You all really think it's all as simple as that? What do you know about the nature of vampires?"

Spike decided he didn't like this girl. "I should think I know a sight more than you, luv, since I _am_ one, and you're not!"

She smiled, evily he thought, and raised a brow. "So a wolf knows more about the biology of its body than a human who has actually taken one apart and looked, huh? You can only know something if you _study_ it, take it apart piece by piece and examine it. Most beings go through their entire existence only knowing _what_ they are, not how or why. So I ask you again to tell me what you think you know."

"What makes _you_ such an exp-" Spike began.

" _My_ people have been hunting vamps for _eons!_ " she sneered. "Unlike _some_ bloodlines, _mine_ never forgot who they were!" She looked at Oz pointedly.

Spike sighed. It was going to be a long imprisonment.

 

CCCCCCCCCCC

The two vamp creatures raced through the city's alleys, trying to stay out of view of any humans or monsters. Every once and a while, Cerberus found his instincts urging him to snap the rabbit up in his jaws. It was the flash of movement that caught a predator's attention, and he kept seeing that flash out of the corner of his eye. He managed to just barely keep himself in check. He wondered if the rabbit was fighting a similar instinct to run from the dog. Then he thought better of it. Becoming a vamp had made the rabbit a predator, as his nose well remembered from the creature's attack. Yet, despite their bad start, Cerberus found himself kind of liking the little fellow. It was nice to have an animal friend, one he could talk to and which knew what it was like to be a vamp.

He almost stopped when he felt it: a sudden surge of anger, one that was over as soon as it began. It didn't feel like it came from within himself. It felt like the rage he sometimes felt emanating from Spike when the man fought a demon, an almost palpable heat. But he shrugged it off. Nicky's words about familiars were just getting to him. It was wishful thinking.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

Angel had decided to answer the girl's question, probably hoping to avoid a fight between her and Oz. They were going to have to all work together to get out of their jam.

"Sunlight!" That got her attention away from the wolfboy. "We can't be in sunlight, or we burn up. We can't bear the presence of crosses, and it's touch will burn is. Holy water is like acid to us. A wooden stake through the heart will kill us. We don't need to sleep, or eat, or drink anything but blood. We _can_ eat normal food, and we can make love. We are cold to the touch, unless we're freshly fed. We normally don't have souls. And we live forever."

She smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere. Ok, so let's think about each of these things. You need blood to live. Why?"

Spike told her what he'd told Xander about blood not so long ago. He remembered the awkwardness, the resignation he'd felt then, and they desperate need to be accepted. His heart had been beating then. He'd felt the blood moving through him, and almost felt alive. He's also been acutely aware then of how _not_ alive he was. How that fact made a wall between him and the Scoobies. Between him and Buffy.

"Now, why do plants need the sun?" she asked when Spike finished his oration. "Why do humans need to eat?"

"Energy." Oz replied.

She nodded. "To function, to _move_ , everything needs energy of some sort. For vamps, the energy comes from blood. But rather than blood being a carrier of food and oxygen, like it is in humans, in vamps it's food in and of itself. They are like a sponge that must be kept moist. It's no coincidence that blood and saltwater are very similar. The ocean is the womb of the Goddess from which all life on earth began. Becoming a vamp is like dying and then having a psuedo-rebirth. The body is animated through a different means of life, but animated nonetheless. So the blood keeps the body alive, keeps it from deteriorating, keeps it regenerating, constantly reborn. It carries the spark of life. Not really so different from humans."

"But _not_ human, luv," Spike pointed out, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"No. Vampirism is a disease. When you become infected, your body is transformed to make it more hospitable for a demon entity. But one might say that if it walks like a human and talks like a human .... Look. There are a lot of ways to make a cup. You can cast it in metal, throw it on a potter's wheel, mold it from glass or clay or plastic. The material is different, and so it the way it was made, but the _end_ result is the same, and _that_ is what counts. Hyenas are genetically closer to cats, but in shape and behavior are more like dogs. There are a lot of different ways for a boy to function, and still end up alive."

"Ok, so I'm still wondering about the sunlight and cross and holy water thing," Lorne wondered idly. "How does _that_ fit in? I mean, so long as we are talking about vampire physiology ...."

"The cross burns because vampires are evil, and it's the ultimate symbol of good. And the holy water works on the same principle." Angel said, as if it were simple.

Lydia looked to be trying hard not to laugh. "Ok, smart guy, then what about the sunlight?" she asked when she'd composed herself.

" ... It's ... the light of God! Annnnnnnd ... evil can't ... stand up to Him!" He nodded vigorously, trying to seem confidant in his answer.

"Well, you've got it partly right. I suppose I should have expected answers like that from someone named 'Angel'."

Angel scowled, and Spike tried not to grin, forgetting how much he was irritated with the girl himself.

She continued. "Ok, this explanation is in a few parts. First, you have the simple matter of the sun affecting dead matter. Dead things decompose faster in sunlight, so it stands to reason that a 'dead' body would want to stay out of the sun, and a vamp's body is like a well-preserved dead body in many respects. One might think of blood as embalming fluid, keeping the body in stasis, but you still want to keep the body in a cool place and out of sunlight. But that's only a partially effective answer, since we've already determined a vamp isn't really dead, just living by alternative means. Ok, so if a vamp isn't really dead, then we could look at it as an allergy to the sun. There are humans who get burned quite easily in sunlight, and some whose skin goes so far as to burst open and bleed when burnt. Given the delicate nature of a vamp's quasi-dead skin, they take it many steps further and literally burn. And, if you want to get really symbolic, the sun is a symbol of fire, a great purifier. It stands to reason that, if a demon is a negative being, then the sun would be burning the demon out of the body, but unfortunately end up taking the body with it. The same goes for holy water, which is also a purifier. But that has nothing to do with the church -- pagans have the concept as well, and their version of it is just as effective.

"As for the cross, it _is_ a holy symbol, but not for what you think. At least, not in this case. When you study magic, you're taught that symbols and words have power because they act as magnets for specific energies. We chant and envision god aspects in order to invoke that power within ourselves, a sort of mind-over-matter meditation. Long before Christianity adopted the cross, there was the concept of the _solar_ cross, whose sides were all equal and represented the four directions and elements. Altogether it represented the sun, S-U-N, not S-O-N. So when a vamp is touched by a cross, they are basically being hit with the metaphysical power of the Sun.

"The stake is a symbol too, one of Earth. The Earth to which we go when we die -- specifically, the trees which devour our decaying bodies. The heart is the seat of the blood that keeps a vamp alive, even if it doesn't beat. Put a stake through it, and it's magic against magic, the power of Earth sending the vamp to their final rest."

Angel looked skeptical, but Spike found that she made a lot of sense. He wasn't one to believe in deities, but life and death and science he could have some semblance of faith in. Sure, there was a bit of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo in there, but she had added a scientific sort of _logic_ to it. At least the Elements were a tangible thing, something he could see and feel ....

The group sat there a moment, each of the men apparently trying to absorb what she'd said and decide what, if any of it, was true. Well, all save one of them was.

Lorne raised a hand. "Ahhh, I don't mean to break up this nice little philosophical discussion, but don't you think we should be trying to get _out_ of here?"

They all nodded, and set their minds to chewing on the problem at hand. All but Spike, who had the strangest feeling that Lydia and their captors had been right, that Cerberus was rushing to find him. He felt like he could feel the dog's claws clicking on asphalt as he raced in the back of Spike's mind.

 

CCCCCCCCCCC

Somehow Cerberus knew, before Nicky said anything or had even stopped, that they'd reached their destination. Maybe it was a whiff of demon he'd caught, but he thought it was something else. Cerberus thought he could feel Spike near, but he didn't know _how_ , since he couldn't see, hear, smell, touch, or even taste him. It was just a feeling.

He didn't get a chance to think on it. They were in the open, a big field before the circus. Cerberus felt a ball of dread in the pit of his stomach, making him want to retch. He remembered those tents, the tortures he and his friend had endured. It was a certainty that their friends were here now.

There was no way to _sneak_ in. The grass was too short to crawl through, and the gibbous moon shone bright on their white fur. They were going to have to rely on their speed to see them safely inside.

Sure enough, when they reached the enclosure, they were spotted. They bolted for an area far off to the left of the guards. With their vampire-enhanced strength, they leapt the wall just before the guards reached them. Unfortunately, they weren't home-free once they crossed over: there was a demonic guard standing right where they landed on the other side!

The demon muttered a hearty curse in his own tongue as the two little beasties struck him from behind. It wasn't enough to do any severe damage to him, and he grabbed hold of Nicky.

"Well, this is some great service here! I ain't even placed an order yet!" the demon commented in his guttural tongue.

A fellow guard came over to see what was the matter. "What is that?"

"My dinner!" the first guard replied cheerfully.

The second guard spotted the dog on the ground. Cerberus was just getting to his feet. The guard grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and held him up. "Hey! This is a dog!"

The first guard shrugged, trying to get a firm grip on the struggling rabbit. Thankfully, he seemed to like to swallow his food whole — and alive. For his part, Nicky was trying to kick and bite, but the demon's tough skin seemed impervious to his attacks. The monster seemed about to pop the rabbit into his massive jaws.

"Hey, you idiot, that's the bunny! These are the two the bosses have been waiting for!"

The first guard lowered the small vamp and pouted. "Awww. But it's just a little bunny, the bosses would never know if I ate it ...."

" _I'd_ tell them," the second guard informed his friend while he held Cerberus around his neck like a stole, immobile, hands clamped firmly around the dog's legs. Cerberus' bites were just as ineffectual as the rabbit's had been. "Besides, we're sure to get a great reward for capturing them both," the guard continued, oblivious to the gnawing.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

They had worked out a plan. Well, it wasn't much of one, but it was something. They had gotten the other demons captives to agree to revolt with them, a play on the tactics Spike had used the first time he was caught. Their captors would have to open the barrier _sometime_ , right? Still, Spike couldn't help but think something was wrong. Why hadn't they been put in their own individual cells while they were all still unconscious? There was no way to know; all he could do was wait with the rest of them.

"So what about souls?" Oz asked out of nowhere.

"Huh?" Lorne looked at him like he suspected the boy was going rabid.

Oz ignored him. "You talked about physical life, but what about what I said earlier? That many culture believe it's the soul that makes you alive?" He looked at Lydia intensely.

For her part, she almost didn't seem to hear the question at first, a bit startled and put out of sorts by the other werewolf's attention. She reminded Spike suddenly of Buffy, how she seemed to jump from attraction to loathing and back again like a pendulum. The thought brought a sad smile to his lips, but no one noticed.

"That's a good question," she said finally. "I guess this whole scenario depends on your definitions of 'life', 'death', and 'souls'. But what I would like to know is, what makes you so sure vamps _don't_ have one?"

"We went over that already!" Angel sputtered. "If they did, I wouldn't have needed a spell to get mine _back!_ "

Lydia wagged a finger at him. "That spell was to get your _human_ soul back. And I, for one, resent the assumption that only human have them. You were half-right, my skinwalking bretherem. To live takes _Spirit_ energy, the lifeforce. A soul is made of Spirit energy, and every living thing has that energy, even if not every body actually has a soul. Vamps have Spirit enegery — they get it in blood just as any other creature gets it in food. It is also in air, and in minerals. It stands to reason that, just as there are different manifestations of Earth, in rocks and trees and flesh, there are also different manifestations of Spirit energy. Human, wolf, demon. When a vamp is made, their bodies are changed to make them a suitable host for Demon energy. Most of the time, the original soul, if there even _was_ one, cannot cope in the new environment, and is driven out by the demon. Other times, the soul manages to adapt to the new surrounding."

Oz's expression was unreadable as he asked, "What do you mean when you say not every body has a soul, yet spirit energy is necessary to live, and souls are made of spirit?"

"Don't mistake the messenger for the message. You can make ice out of water, but is all water ice? Spirit is the power that moves the universe. It is a material that can be shaped. A body is a vessel, into which spirit is poured. Sometimes ice cubes are poured into a vessel along with water, sometimes not. Sometimes the ice cubes from later, based on the conditions the vessel is exposed to."

"Fair enough. But what about the reflection thing? I mean, about vamps not having one?" Oz asked, his voice still almost monotone.

She cocked her head curiously. "Why does everyone assume that mirrors reflect souls? I have seen the reflections of people I have known for certain to be soulless. I have looked in different mirrors and seen myself look completely different in them. Mirrors _can_ lie, and anyway, what we normally see in them, when we aren't scrying, is simply the reflection of light around us. I don't know why we don’t see vampire reflections— maybe the reflections really _are_ there, and we only _think_ we don’t see them. Or maybe it's some freaky scientific anomaly dealing with light and their skin. I think the lack of a soul is really the very least likely explanation — after all, Angel has a soul, and _he_ can't see himself in a mirror. Or can you?"

Angel shook his head. Then he had a question of his own. "You said that sometimes a soul gets ... _used_ to it's surroundings. Is that what happened to me?"

Lydia smiled sadly. "No. What the gypsies did to you was completely ridiculous, punishing your human soul for what your demon soul did. It would be like punishing an innocent who happened to wear the same bowling shoes as a murderer, knowing full well you had the wrong man all along. You are not one with your body anymore, Angel. You are a soul trapped in a suit of armor, rather than being soaked into your body like it was a sponge. The spell allows you to move the body about, and keeps the demon soul at bay."

Angel shivered, Spike guessing he'd had a chill go up his spine at the thought of sharing his body with another soul, and an enemy one at that.

Lydia continued. "No, Spike is more of what I had in mind in that respect."

The bleached vamp had only been listening with half an ear until then. He stared at her curiously. "Whaddya mean by that, luv?"

"Well, it's only a guess really. I don’t' really know you, but from the sense I get of you, I'm almost certain your human soul didn't leave."

Spike laughed. "Now that's a good one! No. I don’t think so, luv. A demon even said to me, not long ago, 'Funny, I don't smell a soul on you ....' Nah, it's just this sodding chip in my head!"

She shrugged. "I don't think so. The chip couldn't make you loyal, couldn't make you risk yourself for others. But mayhap I am wrong. Or mayhap he had the same prejudice as most beings do, thinking of the word 'soul' as being synonymous with 'human'. See, it's like soda. No matter what it's in, it's the same ingredients, but soda from a bottle tastes different than soda in a can. It takes on a metallic taste in the can. I believe that's what happened to you, Spike. Your human self, as I understand it, was a sort of volunteer in being turned. So I think your soul stayed on, wanting the things that becoming a vamp offered. In effect, your human soul _became_ a demon soul. But not entirely so, more of taking on the 'taste' of your demon shell. So this demon who spoke to you smelled one of his own. You're like a hunter using 'doe juice' to throw off a stag, tricking him into thinking you were like him. What's more, I think you human self is actually making changes to the demon mold, or maybe prevented the change from happening completely. I think you're a new breed of vampire, Spike. I think, if you truly wanted it, you could even turn yourself human again."

There was a shocked silence. Lorne broke it with a giggle.

"Yeah, right! Honey, you do _not_ know the Big Bad if you think that!"

She gave Lorne a look that stilled the laughter in his chest instantly. He visibly swallowed. She smiled wolfishly. Spike remembered that she _was_ a wolf. He reckoned Lorne was remembering too -- and that the memory did _not_ make him feel better.

"You, as I understand it, are not at all typical of your species," she remarked to the green demon.

"Y'got _that_ right, sister!"

"Is it so inconceivable that Spike could be as far from a typical vamp as you are from _your_ kind?"

He apparently couldn't argue with that.

"The ice of your soul is melting, Spike, I can almost see it. It's up to you to change the mold and refreeze it into something else. We can all do it, really, and infinitely. There's no such thing as a last chance."

Spike shivered a little; he hadn't thought of it in terms of souls, but he knew he had changed. To use Lydia's own metaphor, Buffy had melted the ice of his heart. What if the girl was right? Could he become human? What's more, did he _want_ to? If he were human, he could see the sun again, but would he be trading Dawn's life to see it? Could he still protect her? Maybe the answer was to become a new breed of vamp, like she suggested he was becoming already. A good vamp who was at peace with himself (well, at truce, anyway), unlike Angel, who constantly struggled with his body's true nature, his human soul at war with his vamp shell. Then Spike wondered about the demon soul that was to have inhabited his body. Was it still in him? He decided he didn't want to know.

"You seem to know an awful lot for a ... what, 18-year-old?" Lorne squinted at her.

She smiled, and it seemed to Spike as if she'd aged a thousand years before his eyes. Yet she didn't really look different at all. "Let's just say wolves have an excellent racial memory. And we've been known to channel gods now and again".

Spike felt his flesh crawl. He'd been down that path before, meeting a god,, with Glory. He hoped he hadn't found another one, one that was trying to mold him for her own purposes. Yet he didn't _feel_ like she was evil. She made him feel ... calm. Safe. If she had ever channeled a god, certainly she was doing it _now_ , channeling some sort of Mother goddess who was intent on lecturing them and putting them straight on a few things, all while she dusted them off, tucked in their shirts, and cleaned the dirt off their faces with her spit. He hoped she let them out to play soon ....

Lorne apparently decided not to comment on the possibility of her being an avatar. "So if you're a vampire hunter, why haven't you staked these two?" he asked instead. "I've seen you chat with Angel in the club a few times; you can't tell me you didn't know what he was!"

"I never said I was a vampire slayer; I said my people were renowned for hunting them. Some of my relatives see vamps as an abomination for killing humans, who are their kin to some degree. And some consider them abominations for defying death. Me, I've come to think that's there's a reason vamps are driven to kill humans -- maybe because humans could use a few predators to keep their numbers in line. With six billion and counting, humans aren't exactly endangered, and they do an excellent job of endangering others." She smiled wryly. "I also find no fault with wanting to live, nor with eating what your bodies requires one to eat to do that."

"You wanted the vamp who turned Nicky dead," Angel pointed out.

"Because he harmed one of mine. I have as much right to protect the lives of those are care about as he had to live. And really, he was supposed to be my friend -- you don't eat _friends!_ "

"I've known werewolves to kill humans, and take a lot of pleasure in it. Yet your people kill vampires for feeding on humans? Isn't that hypocritical?" Oz asked her, although it was hard to tell if he was being judgemental of her or not. It seemed he just wanted an explanation.

"You speak of those who are not of my family. They can't even complete the change!"

For the first time Oz looked genuinely puzzled. "Complete? How do you mean?"

"Have you ever been a full, true wolf?"

"No. I mean, why would I? We _aren't_ true wolves."

She smirked. "In the sense that we are not full-blooded wolves, no. But we _do_ carry wolf blood within us; we are not just some creature that resembles one. Most of the werewolves who were born as men get a little power-trippy when they wolf-out. They can never shake the _human_ desire to hurt others, delight in it even. Hence, they never achieve full-wolf form. They are dire-wolves, humanoids with wolf strength and hunger, fur and fangs, but human greed and hate. Even those who are normally gentle humans can lose themselves in the power and in the simplicity of the wolf's thoughts. There is no need for a wolf to moralise; they follow their instincts. A human without morals, though, follows their desires, things that aren't about survival. And humans killing humans is a common enough occurrence as it is, whereas wolves rarely kill other wolves. No, my friend, it is your _humanity_ that makes you dangerous when the moon is full, not the fact that there is a wolf inside you. The human takes advantage of the wolf's strength."

Oz looked like he wanted to deny her, but didn't say a word. Spike supposed that, on his spiritual sojourn, Oz had learned well that lying to yourself was foolish. He felt his heart go out to the boy; it wasn't easy to come to terms with the monster within one's self. No doubt Oz had thought he already had, and was now learning he had been fighting the wrong part of himself.

"You still don't believe me, do you?" She smiled sadly. The smile seemed to stretch across her face until Spike realized her jaw was expanding. Hair began to sprout all over. In seconds, he saw the wolf he'd met back in Lorne's club. A true wolf, not the Wolfman of the movies. Then she changed back.

For the first time, Spike saw Oz lose control (well, aside from the way he lost it when he wolfed out). His eyes teared, then became waterfalls. His silent sobs spoke volumes to a vamp who knew what grief was. Oz had lost Willow because he could not control the monster within himself, and had just learned that the monster had nothing to do with being a werewolf, but was more of a preconception, a figment of his own mind. He need not have lost his love. Losing your true love was made all the worse if you could blame it on yourself.

Lydia took the boy in her arms, rocking him gently as she smoothed his hair. The two vamps and Lorne politely drew themselves off to the side a bit. They rest of the crowd was completely oblivious.

Spike looked at Angel accusingly. "Sooooo, I wonder how she learned so much about me ...."

Angel shrugged. "I saw her perform at the club after our little encounter. She was curious about us. She was taught that vampires as just disease-carrying pests to be exterminated without thought. But in us she saw more than that, and she wanted to know why. I think meeting us has made her decide _not_ to be a vampire hunter. She said that it was high time her people remembered to take each being in the world aside from the rest and judge them on their own merit. She said that her people scoffed at the human tendency to generalize everything, yet apparently were just as heinously guilty of it themselves. I told her not to worry, we all tend to do that. I said that _I_ had once thought vamps were evil monsters, end of story — I mean, I assumed _you_ couldn't be anything but evil, since you didn't have a soul." He averted his eyes. Spike thought he saw the man's eyes glittering before he turned away. "But you proved me wrong by being there for Buffy."

Spike felt a tension within him ease. "So you believe me, then?"

Angel laughed ruefully. "You never were a good liar, Spike. What could I do but believe you when you told me that you had loved her? But ... thinking that you managed to do good things, to love, with _out_ a soul just made things harder for me, knowing what a monster _I_ was without _mine_ .... Anyway, I ... I think now that ... if Buffy had lived, you might have been able to make her happy ..." his voice crumpled, " ... where I _couldn't_."

Spike scoffed and gave his frenemy (or just friend, now?) a comforting pat on the shoulder. "You forget all the evil things I did, mate. I'm not called Spike for nothing, and if Lydia's right, I _had_ a soul when I did those things! If anything, I'd say that makes me more of a monster than you _ever_ were. _Me. William._ The poofter who wanted to be a bad boy and run with the big dogs ...."

 

GGGGGGGGGG

The guard that held Cerberus wasn't hurt by the dog's teeth, but he was getting tired of being gnawed on. He gave the mutt a knock on the noggin. The pup let out a yelp and was still.

"'Ey! Don't damage the star!" One of the bosses smacked the demon on the head, but with considerably less force with his puny human strength.

The guard flinched all the same. "Sorry boss."

 

AAAAAAAAAA

Spike let out a cry of pain, and fell back against the straw that lined the tent.

Angel and Lorne rushed to his side, but couldn't find anything wrong with him. "What's _wrong_ with him?" Lorne asked, a note of panic in his whining.

"Nicky says Cerberus was hit for misbehaving," Lydia's voice told them. They moved aside a bit and let her and Oz have a look at Spike. "Nicky is close enough for me to hear him." She didn't sound happy. "They've been captured," she informed them as she lifted an eyelid and looked into Spike's eye.

Angel watched pensively. It felt strange to be worried about the younger vamp, who he hadn't really liked even when he didn't have a soul. He supposed it was true that, when you hated someone, eventually you had nowhere left to go but to love (well, _like_ ) them instead. He suspected that was what had happened to Spike in regards to Buffy. And he couldn't truly hate someone who loved Buffy too (except maybe Captain Cardboard).

"Well? Do you know what's wrong?" Lorne asked after waiting a few impatient moments.

Lydia looked at him with an expression that asked if he was truly daft. "I told you, _Cerberus_ has been hit."

The three conscious men shared a confused look.

She rolled her eyes. "Spike felt the strike through their bond!"

Oz and Lorne were still baffled, but Angel thought he at least partly understood. He sometimes felt Buffy's pain over great distances. He told himself that the reason he hadn't felt her die was because he'd been in another dimension at the time.

The other two didn't get a chance to question her further. The tent flap opened, and three demons walked in. One carried a large metal cage, which he set down in the center of the tent. The other two threw their own burdens, the two familiars, inside it. The rabbit tried to run out, but the cage door was slammed in its face. It stomped a foot. That woke up the dog, and through him, Spike.

"I wanna see your bosses!" Spike snarled.

"Oh don' worry, you will," one of the demons laughed on his way out the door.

 

LLLLLLLLLLLLL

They didn't have to wait long before their captors arrived.

Tensing, Lydia hoped they would make an opening in the magic barrier that held them. Spike, apparently, wasn't so patient as to wait for an opening, throwing himself against the barrier in his desire to hurt the men who'd put them in this situation. Or maybe just to reach his dog. Either way, he bounced off the barrier, knocking over Oz as he flew backward.

Their captors laughed heartily. The taller man said to his diminutive companion, "Cor, Nicky, we could use the dog as a carrot to train that one!"

A growl rumbled in Lydia's throat.

"What'sa matta, luv?" the man asked her, getting as close as the barrier allowed.

"Don't talk to my Nicky like he's a friend of yours!"

The tall man gave his friend a perplexed look. "You know this chippie, mate?"

The shorter man approached her with a lecherous smile. "I should like to hope I vould remember such a pretty face ... Maybe I should take her out and get re-acquainted."

And then Lydia understood: the little man's name was Nicky too! Or rather, probably Nikki, given his accent. Lydia smiled naughtily at him; judging by the smile he gave in return, he misunderstood her smile entirely. She couldn't contain her glee as a plan formed in her mind. Then she pouted at him. "How could you forget the night we shared in St. Petersburg?" She prayed he had actually been there.

His eyes flashed with recognition, or so he thought. "Ah! My little babushka! Forgive dis old drunken fool; wodka clouds my memory! Of course I remember you now!" Nikki crooked a finger at her. "Come closer to de barrier, my sveet vone."

Smiling still, she stepped up as close as she could. In a moment he had her arm and was dragging her through. She noticed he had a bracelet on that wrist. She could feel the power in it. Her magical studies told her that it had allowed him to cross over the barrier and pull her through without cutting a door in the barrier. She suspected she could learn more of great use from him, so she just let herself be led out rather than attacking now ....

 

AAAAAAAAAAA

"Sleep toight, mates. You've all got a 'ard evenin' ahead of yehs," Milton taunted.

Angel flinched at the light of the predawn that entered the tent as Milton opened the flap to leave.

Feeling defeated, the gang sat back down on the hay. Spike leaned against the barrier at the point closest to his canine companion. He looked odd, leaning on nothing. Oz looked like he'd had his heart ripped out. Lorne looked pretty unsettled himself.

Was Lydia a friend of the Russian? What had just happened?

 

LLLLLLLLLLLL

It was a good thing she hadn't eaten in a while, or Lydia was certain she would be yawning in a technicolour fashion at that moment. She was on the verge of dry-heaving as it was. The Russian had his hands all over her, and was going at her neck like he thought he was a vamp himself, causing the collar he had placed on her to chafe her. She forced herself to return his caresses, trying to block out the rancid smell of his sweat, and the dampness of him. One might almost mistake him for a Vorlash demon ....

"Darling," she purred in his ear after a while, "do you think my familiar could be let out?"

"Vhy?" came his muffled voice against her skin. "De little creature is used to being in a cage, yah?"

 _Not at all_ , she thought to herself, but she didn't tell him that. She didn't want him to think her Nicky was more than a vampire pet. Instead she told him, "He must be so scared, locked up in that cage with that awful dog!"

"I tink he can hold his own, my dear, but if you please me, I may let you keep him in here vith us later." He started moving his hands under her shirt, but she managed not to cringe. Instead she began to fondle him in an intimate place, causing him to sigh. She complimented him, teased him, distracted him for a while. Then she asked, "Could you at least put the dog in with his master? So my bunny could have the cage to himself, I mean."

He shook his head without removing his lips from her torso. "No, the dog would get out. Animals can pass through barriers like that. Ve don't have another small cage, and I von't chance putting such a prize in vith de other demons; dey might eat him."

She smiled, and he thought it was because she was enjoying his attentions. But then he stopped, and looked her in the eye. She saw suspicion there, and felt the icy claw of fear threaten to rip her heart from the cage of her chest.

"Don't get any ideas, my sveet vone. If you try to set your little friend free, you vill be in for nasty ... _shock_ ," he laughed and resumed his fondling. "Cage is spelled to electrocute anyvone who interferes vith it but Milton and myself. You vill find that collar I have given you prevents you from assuming your volf form. And if you try to _escape_ ..." he squeezed her chest painfully, "I vill say vords that vill activate spell I placed on you, and kill you."

She swallowed in fear, but the action was only for show. She thought to herself that he couldn't speak if she bit his tongue off ... or ripped his throat out. He had deluded himself into thinking the danger inside herself lay in her wolf blood ... She spoke to her familiar mind to mind, and told him what she had learned, as well as how she thought they might escape.

 

CCCCCCCCCCC

Nicky told Cerberus what Lydia had told him, and told the dog to tell Spike. Cerberus wouldn't believe the little bunny about the telepathy. The rabbit bit the dog's left forefoot in irritation. The dog yelped.

Spike gave a cry as well, and rubbed his left hand in pain. "Leave off, ya bloody rat! Cerberus, are you gonna let that lil' furball push you around?"

Cerberus noticed curiously how his man-friend had cried out as he did, and rubbed his own hand as if he too had been hurt. He heard the vamp say, "Stupid lil' git! 'Ow could he fight off vamps and other demon nasties, and be afraid of a lil' bunny?"

And then Cerberus realised he hadn't heard those words with his ears. Could it be?

**Who are you calling a git?! And what the hell _is_ a git, anyway?**

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike blinked and stared at the dog. He looked around to see who had spoken. How could they reply when he had only thought the words, not said them aloud? Was one of their fellow captives a mind reader?

**Did you hear me, Spike?**

Spike scowled, still eyeing the crowd. "Uh, yeah, but ... who are you? _Where_ are you?"

"Um, Spike, you okay there, buddy?" Lorne asked him.

Angel and Oz looked at him like he had gone nuts -- a viable assumption on their part, since it seemed like he was talking to himself.

**What do you mean, who and where?!? I'm right in front of you! It's _me!_ **

He turned his eyes back to the cage, and found Cerberus staring at him intently. Could it be? **Cerberus?** he thought tentatively.

The dog wagged his tail, tongue lolling in a doggy grin as he looked over at the rabbit for a moment. **He _can_ be taught!** The dog turned his attention back to the vamp. **Listen, Lydia thinks she's found a way to get us all out. She says Oz needs to go wolf — all the way, give his mind over to the wolf's instncts, make himself _blank_ — and then he can cross the barrier. He can allow anyone who's touching him to cross too, but he has to change _all the way_ , or it won't work! Lydia's going to try to escape, and it would be best if everyone was already out when she got here. We are to wait for her signal, though, when the sun sets.**

**What about you two?**

**She says Angel needs to be the one who lets us out. Whoever tries to open the cage will be electrocuted. It won't _kill_ a vamp, but if _you_ do it, then I will be knocked unconscious too, and I need to be able to cross the barriers around the other enclosures and help everyone escape quickly.**

**What, you mean save the other demons? _Why?_ **

** _They_ could be good, too, you don't know — do you want to leave an innocent trapped here? Besides, the more help we have, the better chance we have of escaping!**

Well, the second was reason enough. Still, while the shock wouldn't kill Angel, it would still knock him out, leaving him dependent upon everyone else to protect him and get him out of there. "I can't ask him to do that!"

"Ask who to do what?" Oz asked.

**What's your worry? Sure, it'll hurt, but he'll live! C'mon, we need to get a move-on!**

So Spike reluctantly told them Lydia's plan.

Angel and Oz did not look thrilled, but Lorne was cheery enough for the lot of them. At least until he asked Spike, "Now you're _sure_ you're not just loosing it? The dog really _did_ talk to you, right?" The others echoed that question in their eyes.

Spike wished he could answer yes with more confidence.

 

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

For her part, Lydia had no trouble disposing of Nikki. She let him use her as he pleased, reminding herself all the while that she was doing it for her friends. And, well, it helped to picture Oz in the man's place. They slept for a while, and awoke as the sun was setting. He told her she was to stay put while he took care of business. She begged him for a goodbye kiss. Pretending to french him, she bit his tongue out. While he was choking on his blood and fainting from the pain, she used her human teeth to rip his throat open. She almost gagged on the taste of him; the man had _not_ been taking care of himself. She wiped herself clean with his blankets, and put her clothes back on. At the door, she stopped and addressed his corpse as she tore the now-inactive collar off. "Maybe you were human, and I'll pay for this with my karma ... But then maybe you were far more a monster than any vampire, and I have just protected my pack." She threw the collar at him, and left.

**Now.** she calmly told her familiar.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"I dunno, man ...."

"C'MON! You know it's possible, you _saw_ her ...."

"I-I _know_ , but ...."

Spike put on his game face and gave Oz a solid punch. Pain shot through his hand; the werewolf was made of tougher stuff than a human. A yelp told him that he had hurt Cerberus too. "Sorry, boy," he apologized.

It had worked, though. Oz had wolfed out.

 

OOOOOOOOOO

Once the process had begun, Oz decided he might as well make a go of finishing it. He called on the meditation techniques he had learned, but this time, instead of envisioning himself as a man, he pictured Lydia: how she'd looked as a wolf, how she'd smelled ... how much he'd wanted to run his fingers through her fur ....

And he succeeded! He knew he had when Spike and Angel high-fived, and then Spike had the audacity to ruffle his fur. Oz snarled a moment; Spike apologised. Testing out his new four-legged walk, Oz wished she were there to see it .... Then he shook the thought away. His previous relationship with a werewolf hadn't worked out too well, and he mad more important things to concentrate on. Besides, this was probably just a lust thing again ....

He only allowed himself a moment to enjoy his success before he moved on to the next step: giving in to the wolf. It was both harder and easier than a full physical transformation; he'd spent so long trying to _keep_ from giving in. And yet, ironiocally, the very step that he'd taken to keep himself under control so that he wouldn't wolf-out was the very step that allowed him to give in to the wolf utterly: the meditation. He made his mind blank, and the wolf was there, waiting.

That done, he started to lead others across the barriers. He took Angel over first, and went back for the others as Angel opened the cage.

As Lydia had warned, there was a surge of power, but Angel managed to hold on long enough to get the door open. Spike caught Angel as he fell, and slung him over his shoulder fireman-style.

The animals helped Oz with transfering the other demons through their barriers, so it only took a minute or so to get everyone out.

 

LLLLLLLLLLL

Lydia walked right in to the tent, telling the guards that Nikki had given her permission to see her familiar. She'd had no trouble walking through the circus grounds while the human employees and occasional free demon prepared for the night's shows. Luckily for her and her friends, the humans and free demons never seemed to question that anyone could walk free who wasn't supposed to: their bosses were well versed in demon lore, and very good at holding them prisoner.

It proved more difficult than she expected to dispose of the two dim-witted guards. She stepped out and told the pair there was a situation inside. The problem was that, while they were stupid, they were also _fast_ — or at least one of them was. Seeing his fellow demons loose, he grabbed her by the neck, holding her before him like a shield. She shook her, practically giving her whiplash if not for her healing factor. She tried to reach out for the wolf within her —

And the next thing she knew, she was falling on the floor. She glanced up and saw Spike tearing into the demon. She felt claws on her back as another demon ran over her to join the fray; a snarling Oz prevented another from making the same mistake, giving her a chance to get to her feet. She reverted to the dire form then, so that she had her teeth and claws but wasn't so small as to easily be stepped on by the hulking brutes in the room. Oz followed her lead.

Once the guards were little more than puddles of green on the floor, Lydia told the newly-freed lot to walk outside as if they had every right to be doing so. For most of the demons, that wasn't at all difficult. The human and demonic employees outside ignored them as they made their way towards the gate. They were a hundered yards away when the commotion finally started.

 

MMMMMMMM

Milton went chasing after the escapees with a pack of human and demonic employees. He had found his partner's body just moments before and sounded the alarm. Not that he cared much that the man was dead, but he wasn't about to let his star attractions escape.

Unfortunately for him, he didn't have a choice.

 

CCCCCCCCCC

Cerberus and Nicky raced towards Milton. They were unnaturally quick, and tore into him before anyone had even noticed. With their boss dead, the demons were at a loss as to what to do. Cerberus and Nicky trotted back to their friends, licking their chops. Together, the group walked nonchalantly out the gate. Behind them, all hell literally broke loose as demons that had been held against their will revolted against the remaining human captors.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSS

Lorne sighed when they got back to the club and saw the ruins of its interior. "I need to start investing in sturdier materials."

The rest of the gang laughed and offered to help him clean up. Spike ducked behind the bar and grabbed a few bottles. He served up "vampire bloody marys" for himself, Angel, and even Cerberus and Nicky.

" _Hey!_ " Lorne protested.

"Sorry mate, I don’t work on an empty stomach, and I don't work for free," Spike informed him solemnly. At the reprimanding looks the others gave him, he couldn't keep a straight face anymore. "Kidding! Jeez, lighten up! Angel, Oz, you guys should be used to cleaning up after Armageddon, after living in Sunny D. I rather think I've become a bit of an expert m'self," he added ruefully.

"Oh yeah?" Angel asked. He tossed a broom to the bleached vamp. "Prove it."

Spike caught it with a grin and started to pretend he was Darth Maul, complete with game face. The others laughed, then set to work. Angel found a radio in the back, and turned it on. Lydia and Oz worked side by side. Oz stopped and played air guitar on his broom when a song he liked came on, sending Lydia into a fit of giggles. Spike watched them as he swept.

**You miss her.** It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, mate," Spike whispered. "I do."

**I know. I can feel your pain. You're not alone.**

Spike smiled sadly, and reached out to scratch the dog's ear. "I know that, too."


	7. Spike & Cerberus Play House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike plays "daddy", Dawn goes on a date, and Dru comes back into town ....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Little Mermaid / Sebastian (and his "teenagers" line) © Disney

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike was starting to agree with the little red crab in that mermaid movie. _Teenagers ... give dem an inch, dey swim all ova you._ Not that he would ever admit to having seen it if anyone had asked. But it was because the crab was right that he had seen it in the first place.

Dawn had wanted to see it. Ok, whatever, so they rented it. When they got home, he was informed that she expected _him_ to watch it with her. It had taken very little begging on her part, he was sad to admit; all it took was a solemn vow from her not to tell the Scoobies. A solemn vow she promptly broke. But he didn't get mad. Whatever Dawn wanted, she got.

Well, what could you do when her sister was dead because of you?

So now he was in a bit of a conundrum.

Giles had business to attend to back in England, and had left Spike in charge of Dawn — mostly because Spike was the only one who didn't have a life to worry about. And Giles had been against the idea at first, after the little drug trip Spike had been on that had nullified the effects of his chip temporarily, but Willow, Tara, and Anya had talked the ex-Watcher into it. Knowing the Scoobies still didn't like or trust him entirely, he was determined to prove himself worthy of the task and the bit of faith they _had_ put in him. It fit right in with his vow to protect Dawn anyway.

Hence the problem.

What could you do when you couldn't deny the girl anything she wanted out of a sense of obligation, when her request potentially was at odds with that very obligation?

**It's only a date. What harm ever came from a mating?**

"You watch your mouth! Don't go given' 'er any ideas, there!" Honestly, since the dog had learned to speak to him, Spike was hearing more and more that made him wish he _didn't_ know what Cerberus was thinking!

**She can't hear me!** Oh yeah. **And you're avoiding the issue. Just what exactly is the big danger in her going out with this Kevin fellow? He smelled pleasant enough ....**

"Oh, that's what they like you to think! Bloody predators, teenage boys are! I ought to know, I used to be one!"

Cerberus smiled a doggy grin. **Oh yeah, William the Bloody Lady-killer. Have you forgotten I can read your thoughts? William the Bloody Looser Who Couldn't Get Date 'Till After He Was Dead—**

Spike was about ready to give the dog a good kick in the nose when Dawn came in the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Iiiiii ... waaasssss jussst ... teaching Cerberus my scent! In case he needed to track me."

Dawn crossed her arms and scowled. "Don't lie to me! You were going to kick him! Kick a _dog_ , Spike! _Tell_ me you haven't gotten _that_ pathetic."

" _He_ was saying nasty things abou' m— _hey_ , waitaminute. What d'you mean, ' _that_ pathetic'?"

Dawn slipped into her condescending teenager tone, the one reserved for equals or lessers. "Please. In the entire time I've known you, I can hardly remember a time that you actually scared me. 'Big Bad' my ass ... Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date waiting for me."

When exactly had he lost control of this situation? Scared, she wanted, huh. He'd give her scared.

Vampire speed could be a handy thing at times. Before she had even fully turned around, he was blocking the doorway, game face on. "I seem to recall telling you that you weren't going _any_ where tonight. First of all, you were grounded for not doing your chores. And secondly, you're not going off to who knows where with some boy none of us knows. You bring him over for dinner, let us meet him, and _then_ we'll talk about you going out with him! Unless you want me as a _chaperone_ ...."

She threw up her hands, exasperated. His being vamped out had considerably less effect when everyone knew you couldn't really hurt them. "Why the hell not?" she asked sarcastically. "You follow me around like puppy dog as it is!"

Cerberus bristled at that one, but she didn't notice.

"I'm guessing that's what you'd do _any_ way! And as for dinner?" She took on an extra chipper tone. "'Hi, Kevin, welcome to my home. Don't mind all the dangerous magical artefacts all over the table. Just move the pile of obscure magical tomes and have a seat next to the vampire, while one of the two witches pass you the salt without even touching it, and the ex-demon dishes out her special eye of newt stew! Make sure you don't piss any of them off, or you might get cursed. Let's just hope there isn't an apocalypse before we're through!'" Rolling her eyes, she turned and moved to go out the other door.

"Dawn, don't you walk away from me, not after saying that, you ungrateful git!"

She didn't look at him as she waved a hand goodbye.

He didn't remember even picking up the bowl. Had never even seen the thing until it lay in shards on the floor, having left a dent in the wall by the door as a reminder of its once-solid existence.

Dawn stared at him with those wide, doe eyes of hers. His eyes were just as wide as he stared at what he'd done. He could have hit her! Why hadn't the chip kicked in? Was it because he hadn't aimed it at her? It could have hurt her anyway!

He didn't realise until that moment how much he had relied on it to keep Dawn safe from himself.

Neither, apparently, had she.

He let her go with no argument when she ran out of the room. The further from him she was, the better. He had promised Buffy he would protect the nibblet, but how could he if the greatest danger Dawn faced was from himself?

As he picked up the pieces, he didn't even once consider the fact that the chip might no longer be working, much less what that might mean for him. Instead he spent the time laboring to clean up his mess under the weight of a massive guilt trip.

**Do you think we should follow her?** Cerberus asked.

"No, let 'er be. Getting' in 'er face now is only gonna make things worse."

**But ... I thought you didn't want her going out!**

He shrugged. "I don't." Then he realised what Cerberus was telling him; he looked at the now-closed front door. "OH, BLOODY HELL!!!!"

 

KKKKKKKKK

Dawn was late. Kevin had been on a few dates before, so he wasn't worried. He had thought the idea of the girl always being late was just a cliché, but experience had taught him that there was always a bit of truth to old wives' tales. Besides, she'd even said she might be a bit late.

She also had said she might not make it at all. He prayed that wasn't the case ....

And why had she insisted on meeting in a graveyard, of all places?

 

DRDRDRDRDRDR

He wasn't there.

No matter. This was only the first place Dru had looked for her wayward boy. The next stop was the Slayer's house. The thought made Dru both ill and excited at the same time.

It sickened her that the man who had loved her so much once could love their mortal enemy just as strongly. Dru had torn Spike's altar to Buffy to pieces, pretending it was the Slayer herself that was being desecrated. Such a yummy thought. It actually made the idea of killing the Slayer so much more gratifying, having it be a personal vendetta, unlike the other slayers that Spike had killed just for fun. And there was the added bonus of having an excuse to punish Spike as well, for his naughtiness ... Yes, he would like that!

She thought of the things he'd done to her the last time she'd seen him. She remembered every detail, frozen in her deranged mind like a beautiful, sparkly ice sculpture. She would poke him with a tazer and tie him up and ... kill the Slayer while he watched. He would remember what fun they'd always had together. His ridiculous obsession with the girl would finally end. Then Dru would torture him — why waste him being tied up?

She clapped happily as she thought of the dream she'd had again, the one that had prompted her return to Sunnydale. She and Spike dancing as the sun rose, yet not getting all crispy. The grave of the Slayer was their dance floor, and it was raining frogs. Such a delicious dream. She liked frog's legs.

 

KKKKKKKKKKKK

"Sorry I'm late!"

Kevin swept Dawn up in a tight hug, swinging her around. HE gave her a light kiss when he set her down, then gestured to their surroundings. "Why did you want to meet _here?_ " He managed to keep the sense of unease he had out of his voice.

Dawn smiled wickedly. "Because this is the last place in the world _anyone_ would bother us ..."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike slammed his fist in frustration against the tree he hid behind. Bloody stupid Nibblet! Meeting the boy at Spike's own crypt?! Did she really think no vamps came into that part of the graveyard anymore, just because it was Spike's territory?

She was going to hate him for it, but there was only one thing to do. Grab her arm and drag her kicking and screaming back to the house, where he would proceed to tie her up and keep her that way until Giles got home. Except that someone might stop him if she was kicking and screaming down the street. And he doubted the boy would put up with that. Hmmm. He thought about it for a moment.

Cerberus apparently decided it was best he not say anything.

 

DSDSDSDSDSDS

Dawn pushed open the door to the crypt — and promptly walked right into Dru.

The crazy vampress stared at the young girl for a moment. Her voice, when she spoke, was a mix of irritation, wariness, and curiousity. "Why do I see two worlds when I look at you? In one, I see you, and know you. In the other, you aren't there at all. I can see right through you, but you aren't a ghost ...." Dru shuddered, a look of anguish coming over her. "What are you doin' to my 'ead?" Her eyes narrowed. " _You're_ the Slayer's _sister!_ " She smiled, and it sent a wave of fear crashing through the Dawn. "You can be my bait!"

 

DRDRDRDRDRDR

Dru stopped smiling when a dog bit her; where had he come from? Dru kicked out, sending the mutt crashing into the wall. The dog sank to the floor and stayed there, unmoving. The Slayer's sister rushed to the puppy's side.

Dru was about to attack the girl next, but a pair of hands grabbed her, and she found herself immobile. Normally she liked it when Spike held her this way, but now she growled in frustration.

"Dru. What are you doing back here, luv? It's over — _we're_ over."

"Oh, no, Spike! It's never over! I had a dream. We danced on the slayer's grave, you and I! You were meant to _kill_ her, not love her!" She motioned with her head to dawn. " _That_ one has you confused. She confused me, too."

"I _did_ kill the Slayer, luv."

Dru squealed like an excited child. Then she quickly frowned. "You were supposed to wait for me, Spike. I wanted to watch!"

"It's not somethin' I'm proud of," Spike replied.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

It was strange. Not so very long ago, Spike would have given anything to be holding Dru. Yet all he could think about now was how much he missed Buffy, how much he wished he could be holding _her_ at that moment. Dru, who had been the light of his life (and who still loved him, it seemed), was a stranger to him now. He was a stranger to himself. So now, it seemed he had lost _two_ loves. How he wanted to weep!

Dru pulled her arms free while he was distracted.

Dru grabbed Spike's face in her hands and forced him to look at her vamp visage. "Look in my eyes, Spike! See who you were in them, and remember! Come back to me! Come ba-" She stopped, and looked deep into his eyes. Her eyes widened in horror. "You didn't kill the Slayer! You lied!"

So she didn't believe the Slayer was dead, did she? He grabbed her arm and dragged her outside. He pulled her, scratching and biting, over to Buffy's grave, and threw her down in front of the tombstone. " _See?_ SHE'S DEAD! _I_ killed her! ME! WILLIAM THE BLOODY! Her blood is on _my_ hands, as surely as if I'd thrown her off the bloody tower _myself!_ "

Dru looked up at him, her face twisted even more, in rage and disgust. " _You_ didn't kill her! Stop taking credit for what you didn't do, William!"

 

DRDRDRDRDRDR

Yes, Spike definitely needed to be punished. Dru leapt at him, screeching.

Spike fended off her assault, but she could tell that his heart wasn't in the fight — he hadn't even put his vampire face on. His patheticness only enraged her more. Soon his face was a mess of scratches. Then, she had him pinned to the ground. She grabbed a nearby stick and made to plunge it into his heart.

The sunrise stopped her. At least, that's what she thought the bright light was at first. When she looked, she saw the light was coming from the girl. She stared, mesmerized. Until a flying frog hit her in the eyes.

 

DSDSDSDSDSDS

Dawn looked at her hands in disgust. She had thought she had picked up a rock—it wasn't until the little beast was flying towards its mark that she realised what it had really been. Ewwwwwww ....

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike shoved Dru off him and stood. He pulled a stake from his coat. He looked at it, and at his former love. He knew he SHOULD stake her for Dawn's sake. But he just couldn't do it. What the hell was wrong with him?

Dru stood, eyeing the stake as she spoke. "I understand my dream now. It wasn't what I thought at all. I thought Buffy being dead would bring my Spike back to me. But he's been dead a long time now. She killed him very long ago." She looked into Spike's eyes. "I don't know who you are. There is nothin' for me 'ere, now. Let me go."

Spike said nothing for long moments, thinking, stake poised to strike if she tried anything. Then he slowly let it drop, nodding. "Go, then. Don't come back."

She dropped her eyes and nodded sadly, She walked away without another word. Her gait was stiff and numb, like a victim walking away from a wreck — the wreck her unlife had become.

Spike might not love her as he once did, but he still felt a pang of sorrow and sympathy.

Kevin cleared his throat. Spike saw then that the boy was holding a still-unconscious Cerberus in his arms. The kid had seen Dru's demon face, and had seen Spike threaten to kill her, yet hadn't run! Spike suddenly realised that he liked this boy. Well, so long as the kid was still standing a few feet apart from Dawn.

"Kevin, my boy, I think it's time you met the family."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

When they got back to the Summers house, Spike immediately called the remaining Scoobies. They rushed over, armed with pizza.

They thought at first that they might be able to pull the wool over Kevin's eyes about the whole scenario. At the very least, he believed that the Buffybot was the real Buffy. But enough people had seen Buffy fighting evil monsters, and enough students remembered the whole fiasco at the old Sunnydale High (including Kevin's older brother), that holding a dead dog that later got up and walked around was enough to convince Kevin that everything he'd heard was true. To Dawn's relief, he found the whole thing exciting. That only worried the other Scoobies, though, who were afraid the boy thought of the whole deal as a big video-game. Such thinking could get him into serious trouble.

So after much debate in the kitchen, it was decided that Willow and Tara would tweak the boy's memory a bit (with his permission, of course, although some might argue that Xander strong-armed him into it). All he would remember was seeing Spike, "Buffy's boyfriend", having a spat with an old lover in the graveyard, and then later having dinner with Dawn's friends. And he would conveniently forget carrying a dead dog back to the house.

And Dawn would get to see Kevin again. After she was no longer grounded.

 


	8. Spike & Cerberus Search for the Slayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a mess of trouble with the Watcher's council, Wolfram & Hart, and oh, did I mention The Initiative is back? Spike and Cerberus go looking for Faith, while it looks like Buffy might not be quite so dead. Yup, it's my Buffy resurrection story, folks! Angel and his gang, and Riley, also join the fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sequel of sorts (beyond the fact that this is a series) to "Spike & Cerberus Meet the Sandman" .... This was written during the hiatus between seasons 5 and 6, so it goes against the canon of those seasons. In this series, Dawn *is* a Potential.
> 
> "Come What May" lyrics © David Baerwald.

CECECECECECE

The clatter of wood against wood grated on Cerberus' ears, but he could not bring himself to leave. Not that he could do much if Dawn was hurt, aside from lick her tears away, but he sat entranced all the same, like a spectator watching a race where someone could crash and burn at any moment.

**Ease up more; can't you see how tired she is?!?**

"Do you—" CRACK! "*UMF!*—really think—" CRACK! "Good move, Nibblet! But a bit higher next time!" CRACK! "*HUFF!* ... A _demon_ would ease up on 'er?"

**I know at least _one_ who won't ....** Cerberus agreed, his mindvoice sending waves of sarcasm Spike's way.

"You talking—*HUFF*—to Cerbie?" Dawn asked.

"RRAGH!" CRACK! "Yeah ... HUFF.. And don't—*UMF!*—call him Cerbie ..."

** _She_ can call me that, if she wants to ... but I'll bite anyone else!**

At first when Giles walked in, no one noticed him, so intent were the trio on the practice session Spike was giving Dawn with the quarterstaff. But when the group of strange men walked in after him, Cerberus caught their scent, as well as a perceptible shift in the room's atmosphere. Spike and Dawn did not look happy as they lowered their weapons. The dog guessed they knew the newcomers, and were not pleased to see them.

"I, uh, have a rather exciting bit of news for you, Dawn ...." Giles tried to sound cheery, but wasn't fooling anyone. Even if Cerberus hadn't been able to smell the human's apprehension, he could hear it in the man's voice. He could also hear the roughness, as if Giles had been yelling not long before.

Spike seemed to know exactly what Giles meant. "Nothing doing, Giles. You can't allow this — _I_ won't allow it!'

"Yes, well, we don't always like the cards we're dealt: you, I, suspect know that better than most. And for the record, I quite agree with you on the unfairness of it all, but there it is, all the same. The council didn't choose this any more than _we_ would have."

"Choose _what_ " Dawn demanded. "I'm pretty damn tired of everyone talking about me like I'm not here!"

"Watch yer mouth, lil' bit!"

She quieted immediately. It was very unusual for Spike to yell at her for anything short of her putting her life at risk.

One of the strangers smiled. "Yes, I think he will do _quite_ nicely."

It was a few moments before anyone said anything, the words taking a moment to sink in. Giles gave the man an incredulous look. "Travers ... you ... you can't _possibly ... I_ should be the one—"

"Oh, you'll have a hand in training, to be certain Giles. But we _do_ need more Watchers. I concede that it is _most_ irregular, but then Buffy was rather irregular herself. It only stands to reason that her sister — no, her _daughter_ , really — would be the same, and well ... desperate times, and all that."

What the man Giles had called Travers was saying seemed to finally reach the other two, who spoke simultaneously. "You want _me_ to be a bloody _Watcher?!_ " " _I'm_ gonna be a _Slayer?!_ "

To which Spike quickly snapped, "You BLOODY WELL AREN'T gonna be a Slayer! I'm not losing you like I did your big sis!"

"My dear boy," the man addressed him, even though the vamp was about twice his age, "I frankly don't see as how _any_ of us have a choice in the matter. The stars choose whom they choose. One day Dawn might very well be Chosen. Would you have her unprepared?"

Through their bond, Cerberus knew that Spike wanted to argue but knew full well that there was no alternative. The vamp-man finally sagged his shoulders in defeat. Cerberus sent him a psychic lick of comfort, and was gratified to see Spike smile slightly, appreciative of the gesture.

"I still don't see why you don't just have _me_ be her Watcher!" Giles protested.

Travers sighed. "Rupert, do we _really_ need to go over this again? Your Slayer _died_. Whatever the circumstances, that is seen as a failure by the council. You should consider yourself lucky we don't call in someone else entirely to train the boy to be a watcher."

"Why _do_ you want me to be a watcher?" Spike eyed the man and his erstwhile silent companions warily. "I mean, HELLO, I'm a _vampire_. Sworn enemy and all that?"

"Well, that's as good a reason as any, now isn't it? You've proven your loyalty on numerous occasions, by Rupert's own admittance. And here we've found you already training Dawn—"

"So she can _defend_ herself!! This _is_ the bloody Hellmouth, innit?"

"True, but the point is you know how to handle weapons and you're fairly familiar already with demon lore. Knowing that we won't allow Giles to be her Watcher, and also knowing that she is likely to be Chosen and will _need_ a Watcher, who would _you_ like it to be? Especially if we refuse to allow you to see her again if you don't cooperate? You _know_ we can do it. So will you tale the job or not?"

Spike nodded numbly, looking with pain and resignation at his new protégé. For her part, Dawn looked giddy. Giles looked like he was going to be ill. Cerberus lay down and covered his head with his paws, not wanting to hear any more.

 

RFRFRFRFRFRF

Riley's training served him well as he watched the body of his ex-girlfriend be tended to by a handful of technicians in white coats. They had no idea that he wasn't actually listening to them at all as they spoke, that he heard only a mantra in his head, "Forgive me, Buffy," over and over. He had to admit, they'd done an incredible job this time, though. And admitting that only made him feel ten times worse.

"All up to code this times, are we gentlemen?"

Riley snapped to attention when he heard the voice of his superior, General Gage. Gage motioned for him to be at ease, and returned his attention to the leader of the whitecoats, who had just noticed him.

"Ah! Yes, ah, General, sir! This time the specimen has turned out ...." he gave the girl on the table a lingering glare, and Riley wanted to kill him for the 67th time that day. "She has turned out perfect, far beyond al our expectations, sir!"

The general laughed and clapped the man on the shoulder. "Good, good, Hansen! Then we can test her out tonight! There's a vampire in town that we've had our eye on for a while ...."

Hansen looked panicked. It made Riley smile. "Uh, no sir, you don't understand—"

"Then enlighten me, Hansen. I thought you said she was perfect. So how can she not be ready?"

"Well, sir, her body _is_ a perfect specimen, and it's true that her body has all the reflexes of a Slayer, but she has had none of the training! It will take months to bring her up to speed—"

"Find a way to do it faster!"

Hansen's mouth worked silently for a moment before he found hid voice. "Sir, we cannot rush these things — that's why the project has failed until now. It took months to train the real Slayer; we can expect no more from her clone. Memories aren't carried in DNA strands, unfortunately!"

Gage looked like he was about to yell at Hansen, then stopped. A smile slowly spread across his features, one that made Riley's stomach turn.

"Then we'll just have to transplant them from the original. And what about our other project?"

"She, too, is coming along quite nicely, sir. If this idea works, we should be in mass-production of Slayers by the end of the week!"

"Good. Then you can practice the transplant on her, first."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

Some days it just didn't pay to be undead.

The day had started off badly enough before Spike had even woken up. He'd had a horrible dream in which Buffy was alive but didn't remember anything. Somehow, seeing her that way was harder than her hating him or being dead, although he didn't really know why he felt that way.

And now, in the waking world, there this thing with Dawn being named a Slayer-in-Waiting. Protecting the girl until the end of the world just got that much harder.

Cerberus was no help. Normally dogs didn't seem to let anything get them down, but Cerberus was moping. Doom and gloom once again cast its shadow over the Summers' home.

Except for Dawn, who seemed completely psyched about the whole deal. Spike couldn't bring himself to remind her that someone had to _die_ , as her sister had, for her to become the Slayer.

Giles seemed torn. He'd tried halfheartedly  to defend the Watchers when Spike ranted about them being ruddy idjits, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was just as upset as Spike at the idea of Dawn being a potential Slayer. Not to mention that the man was _not_ on the best of terms with the council. Yet while Spike and Giles were, when all was said and done, in complete agreement over the state of things, the man was being cold to him. Surely Giles realized Spike didn't want to be a Watcher anymore than Giles wanted him to be one?

Of course, he was betting Giles didn't know about how the council had approached him once before, over 120 years ago ....

Spike — well, William — had actually been quite scholarly as a youth, whether the Scoobies would believe it or not. And he'd always had a strong interest in the paranormal, particularly since his mother was so superstitious and liked to fill his head with ghost stories. It hadn't escaped the notice of the librarian at the university William had attended. Sadly, Dru had made Spike a vamp before said librarian could make him an offer. When next he saw the man, the librarian broached the subject, not knowing about his recent development. Spike laughed and killed the man. He would have thought the Watchers would have been far more likely to want to kill _him_ at this point than make him one of them, but he supposed they must have remembered why they had wanted him to join them in the first place. He found it oddly unsettling that they were willing to overlook his crimes in the name of their Watcher duties, just as he'd found it similarly odd that they'd wanted to study him rather than stake him when they'd come to Buffy about Glory ...

And apparently he wasn't the only one who had misgivings about the council's motives. The rest of the Scoobies also voiced their apprehensions about trusting the Watchers, careful to avoid mentioning their opinion of him becoming one himself. Even Xander managed not to say anything against Spike.

Dawn took offense at the whole discussion, taking it as another case of them treating her as a child. Kevin came over, and she left with him, seeming desperate to get away from her smothering elders. They let her go so they could talk in peace, figuring Kevin was a good boy and would keep her out of trouble. And after much deliberation, in the end they all conceded that there really wasn't anything they could do about it.

Then Spike had to go and get a brilliant idea: if they kept Faith safe, then there would be no chance for Dawn to become a Slayer. The next thing he knew, he and Giles were talking to the Watchers' Council about getting Faith out of prison. The attempt at convincing them proved to be a pointless effort — they considered her too dangerous to be set free, despite previous Angel's insistence that the girl had reformed.

The only thing left to do was to go get Angel and bust her out of prison themselves.

 

GGGGGGGGGG

"We are quite satisfied with how things are progressing. Do you need anything? A little muscle of the supernatural variety, perhaps?"

Gage smiled at the man in the suit. The man was one of a panel before him. He didn't know their names, or rank, or even if they were all human. They represented The Initiative's investors, and that was all he needed to know.

"No, we have quite a storehouse already," Gage assured the panel. "In fact, if you want us to expand the operation, we'll need more _space_ more than anything."

"Heh, yes, particularly space with frilly curtains and pink walls to house our Slayer army .... Now, if that is all, General Gage, kindly send in Mr Travers on your way out."

 

COCHCOCHCOCH

"What do you _mean_ she's not there?!"

Cordelia surprised herself when she flinched under Spike's anger. She would have thought by now that an angry vampire wouldn't be enough to scare her anymore. But whatever Angel and the others said about him having changed, she hadn't been spending the time with Spike that the Scoobies had. When she looked at him, she still saw a killer. Well, okay, she saw a killer when she looked at Angel, too — and Gunn and Wesley for that matter — but that was besides the point. Wasn't it?

"I _mean_ , according to the records, she was released on parole ...." Cordelia explained, proud of herself for her patience

"So where _is_ she??? And why didn't the Watchers know about her release — they said they wanted to keep her there!"

Wesley looked uncomfortable. "We ... we have reason to believe that Wolfram and Hart may have a hand in the Watcher's council."

At Spike's confused look, Angel elaborated. "Wolfram and Hart is a sleazy law firm run by mages, with demonic clientele. It's likely they're keeping the council under control for the sake of their clients; we think that  _they_  let Faith out."

"Why would they let Faith go after she helped you, instead of keeping her locked up?" Spike asked.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Wesley answered, "We think perhaps Faith has been swayed back to the, ah ... dark side."

"Who _is_ this chick, Darth Vader?"

"Worse ..." Cordy muttered.

Spike tilted his head, looking at his dog. "Cerberus says maybe we should scratch the plan and get back to Dawn. He says if this Faith person _has_ gone bad, it kinda throws the whole plan out the widow anyway." Spike pursed his lips. "Unless ... what if we keep Faith locked up in the crypt? I mean, the Scoobies managed to do that with _me_." He apparently was listening to the dog again. "Yeah, so let's get looking for her! I mean, if she is working for this Wolfheart group, we need to stop her anyway, right? And if we catch her, we can keep Dawn from becoming the next Slayer!"

Angel gave his grandchilde a soft, considering look, surprising Cordy again. It was hard to believe that, not so very long ago, they were mortal enemies — as Spike and Buffy herself had been. And here Spike was now protecting said Slayer's little sister, as if she were his _own_ sister. It was yet another example of how Buffy had touched so many lives in a positive way. No wonder tall, dark and brooding couldn't seem to get over her. In fact, if Cordy didn't know better, she'd say that Angel didn't just want to protect Dawn, but want to _help_ _Spike_ — all because Buffy had placed her trust in Spike! Cordy felt bad for how much that possibility chafed at her; even with Buffy dead, it seemed Cordy could't stop feeling jealous of her.

"We've been trying to track her whereabouts for weeks now," Angel informed Spike unhappily. "There's no sign of her anywhere — Wolfram and Hart must be keeping her in cold storage themselves."

Cordy gave a bitter laugh. "They probably figured prison wasn't a safe enough place to keep her! We should be thanking them for keeping her out of our hair!"

Shy Fred spoke up then. (This was certainly a night for surpises!) "Um, I know I don't know this Faith person and I haven't really had a run-in with the Wolfram and Hart people yet, but it seems like, from what you all have told me, anything Wolfram and Hart wants _has_ to be bad ...."

Angel gave the girl a tender look before turning serious. Cordy squashed an urge to buy the girl a coach ticket back to Texas.

"Fred's right," Angel agreed. "Help or hinderance, we need to know what exactly they're up to."

Gunn spoke up finally. "So how do you suppose we _find_ her?"

Spike gestured to Cerberus. "Do you have anything that belonged to Faith?"

 

RFRFRFRFRFRFRF

Riley had hoped to never seen Sunnydale again. But then, he had also hoped to never see The Initiative again, either. He supposed karma had something to do with it. After all, it was his own fault they had been able to make a clone of Buffy, just by virtue of letting her get involved with them in the first place.

He knocked on the door to the Summers abode, not really sure what kind of reaction he was going to get. When the door opened, Dawn was standing there. She promptly shut the door in his face.

Ok, not an entirely unexpected reaction.

He knocked again, harder. This time Buffy answered, with a crossbow in his face.

Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected either.

"Buffy, please ... We need to talk."

Her eyes were cold as death as she spoke. "So talk."

Before he could open his mouth, a figure who'd been standing with him but to the side of the door, out of sight of the house's occupants, leapt at Buffy. The fight that ensued was fast and furious, and ended with a beheading. Riley stared in horror for several mute moments at the head that rolled down the step of the porch. Then he noticed the wires sticking out of it.

" .... Buffy's a _robot?!_ "

Before anyone could answer him, there was a shout and a flash of light.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting tied to a chair in the kitchen with a bottle of nail-polish remover under his nose.

"See, told you it would work."

"Yes, Dawn, very good. Although I rather liked Anya's idea of kicking him awake better. Now, Riley, would you mind telling us what you and Faith are doing here?"

Riley was a little stung by the coldness in Giles' voice. Looking around the room, the only friendliness he saw was in Xander's eyes, but even they held a touch of wariness. Riley couldn't blame him, what with having brought an enemy with him, one that promptly beheaded their friend.

_Wait a minute ...._

"That's not really Faith; it's a clone," Riley explained. Then, "Buffy's a _robot?!_ "

"A _clone?_ " Dawn asked exitedly. "Like in Star Wars?? _Cool!_ Hey Giles, can you make one of me so I can get out of going to school?"

"Dawn, please .... Now Riley, what do you mean, Faith is a clone?"

Riley gestured with his head to the apparently unconscious form tied to a chair beside him. "She's a project of The Initiative. They have the real Faith in a cell. They used a sample of her DNA to make this clone, and then programmed it with selected memories from the original, so it would know how to fight. So where's the real _Buffy?_ "

"Like we'd tell y—" Giles began.

"Buffy is dead!" Anya answered helpfully.

"Anya!!!" The Scoobies cried in collective alarm.

"What? He's her ex-boyfriend; doesn't he have a right to know?"

"Uh, _no_ , hence the 'ex' ...." Dawn replied.

"Well, actually, Buffy did try to stop him from leaving, but it was too late," Xander reminded them. "She didn't _really_ want him to leave." He looked accusingly at Riley. "But then a certain someone never called, never wrote ... and then showed up one day with a carbon copy of the psychopath who tried to kill Buffy on more than one occasion ...."

Riley had only been listening with half an ear after Anya had informed him of Buffy's demise. He couldn't believe it, even if for a moment! Buffy was always so strong, both physically and mentally; it was her strength that had ultimately led to the end of their relationship, when Riley could no longer handle feeling so inadequate beside her. But maybe if he'd stayed, she would still be alive ....

"Hint-hint, Ri. Now would be a good time for the story spillage ...." Xander warned him.

Riley had a few questions of his own, but knew he could only hope for answers after he had given _them_ some. "I came to warn Buffy about The Initiative's new program."

Willow scowled. "I thought they were kerplooie ...?"

"Yeah. Well, it's amazing what can happen when you have a big enough investor."

It was the Watcher's turn to scowl. "Investor?"

"Yeah, some group that has a lot of power and influence, and a strong interest in demons."

Giles grew pale. "The Watcher council ...." The other Scoobies' faces mirrored his.

Riley scowled. Was it the Watchers? He was sure the name of the group began with a 'W', but he would have thought he would have made that connection if it really _was_ the Watchers. "I'm not sure who it was, really. But whoever they were, they paid for a big new facility to be built in L.A. That's where they're producing these 'Slayer clones'. They took a sample of Buffy's DNA during a physical she'd had when she was helping The Initiative. They made a clone of her," the others gasped in alarm, "and another of Faith. They want to make an army of Slayers. But there's a hitch: while theses clones have the powers of a Slayer, they don't have the training. So they used Faith's memories to program this clone, and sent me to fetch Buffy so they could program her _own_ clones."

"Buffy would never agree to such a thing!" Giles snapped.

"I know. I was just coming to tell her about it, and the Faith clone was supposed to be my proof."

"How do we know he's telling the truth?" Dawn wanted to know.

"He is." Tara offered. "We cast a spell so that he cannot lie while he is bound to that chair."

"I got the idea from Wonder Woman," Willow admitted.

Something fluttered at the edge of Riley's brain. Spells ... memories ... clones .... And then it hit him, a puzzle whose pieces all dropped neatly into place and then clobbered him over the head.

"You can bring her back!"

Willow blinked. Tara understood immediately though. "No Riley, we can't. It wouldn't be right. Necromancy is dark and dangerous magick."

Anya spoke up. "But it wouldn't _be_ necromancy! Not if we're just transferring her memories into one of the clones! That's _not_ raising the dead!"

"And then, with a living body available, Buffy's soul could decide herself to just hop on into the body, right?" Willow suggested excitedly. "Like possession or something?"

Tara looked uncomfortable. "Well ... assuming she were around to 'hop in', it _would_ be her choice, but ... I mean, it'd be like we were helping The Initiative, then!"

"Makin' Slayer copies ...." Everyone looked at Xander like he had gone out of his mind. He let out a giggle that did not help convince them to the contrary.

Giles put his own two cents in. "Well, I do think Buffy's soul would be around if Dawn were there; I have no doubt that she is acting as a guardian spirit for her, much as she did when she was alive. But I'm not sure about her 'possessing' her new body. First of all, what if there is already a soul in it? And secondly, she might not be able to _stay_ in it .... No, I just don't know about this. So much could go wrong."

Willow had remained silent, the look in her eyes telling Riley that she was now fostering the hope that she might get her best friend back. Her next words confirmed it. "Why don't we ask _her?_ We could do a séance ...."

Tara took her beloved's hand in her own. "Willow, sweety, we tried that, remember? She didn't answer ...."

Willow pulled her hand away. "I refuse to believe she wouldn't answer us! Maybe there was some sort of interference. Maybe she was just busy! Maybe she's saving people on the other side the same way she did here! Maybe she's in some big cosmic Slayers-in-Waiting que for a new body! We could give her a shortcut back!" She took Tara's hand again, eyes pleading. "It's not gonna hurt to try!"

Tara looked at the faces in the room. As she glanced at Riley, she said, "Ii may hurt everyone here a _lot_ if we fail." She looked at her lover, Willow's eyes pleading. Tara siged in resignation. "But _not_ trying might hurt just as much. All right. But let's get a hold of a clone _first, before_ a séance. It might increase our chances of making contact."

 

SSSSSSSSSSS

As Spike and Angel's group hovered outside Wolfram and Hart, deliberating about what to do, Spike spied a familiar figure walking out the front door. "Well I'll be buggered ...."

Then Wesley apparently spied the man. "Sometimes I hate being right."

They waited for the man to get close enough, then stepped out behind him.

"Well, well, well. Fancy meetin' you 'ere," Spike remarked.

Travers turned and stopped cold, eyes wide with either fear or astonishment. Either way, when he quickly turned to make a hasty exit, his way was blocked by the broad shoulders of Angel and Gunn. Cordy and Fred moved in on either side. Cerberus circled the group, vamp face on.

Travers turned back to Spike and Wesley. "What do you want?"

Spike was impressed at how steady the man had kept his voice, despite how he reeked of fear.

Wesley answered him with a question. "What have Wolfram and Hart done with Faith?"

Travers narrowed his eyes at the ex-Watcher. "I knew you were too close to the girl, Wyndam-Price. After all she's done, you still care about her?"

Wesley visibly bristled at that.

Spike laid a hand on his shoulder, using his vampiric strength to restrain him without it being obvious. He took over the interrogation. "I think we're the ones askin' questions 'ere, Travsy. What does Wolfram and Hart want with the Slayer — and why is the Watchers' Council helpin'?"

It was Travers turn to bristle. "Since you're _here_ , I'd guess you already know the answer to that. Yes, the council has been infiltrated by Wolfram and Hart. Hell, they've been pulling our strings for a few _centuries_ now, for chrissakes!"

"But that doesn't make any sense," Angel protested. "Most of their clients  _are_ demons; if they control the Slayer, why not just destroy her for good?"

"Hmph. Easier said than done, lad. Might as well drain the oceans while your at it. Kill one Slayer, and another will always pop up somewhere. No, they control the Slayer so they can keep her out of their hair. _And_ so they can _use_ her. They have some trouble with a client? The Watchers send the Slayer on a mission to eradicate said client. In fact, Faith was a direct result of their interference. They thought they could make a Slayer who was .... more _open_ to their way of thinking. One that they could use more directly. But she proved too difficult to control."

"So why do they want her now?" Wesley asked.

"Science has made many great leaps in the past few years. Things like cloning ...."

Fred spoke up excitedly. "They're going to make an _army_ of Slayers??"

Travers smiled at her while the others started in horror. "You would make a good Watcher, I can tell."

Spike stepped in closer, eyes narrowed. "If you've got a bloody army of Slayers in the works, why have me train Dawn?"

"I told you, Faith is too hard for them to control. They want you to train Dawn for a year or so, and then they'll kill Faith. They'll kill every Slayer who pops up until Dawn is the new Slayer. Then she'll lead the Slayer army, and every demon on Earth will bow before Wolfram and Hart."

Wes let out a growl. "And _you're_ helping th—"

Spike stopped him with a hand to the chest. "Why Dawn? Why _me?_ "

"Simple. Over the years, the Slayer has always been taught to hate and kill all demons. Dawn, however, loves you — a demon — as one of her own family. She has the blood of Buffy in her, a slayer who loved another vampire. Dawn has grown to trust you and Angel — as well as Anya, a former demon herself as I understand it. It's in their own best interest to have a Slayer who's gut reaction to demons isn't stake first, ask questions later. Not to mention having a Watcher who won't encourage her to hate demondkind, seeing as he's one himself. You stand the best chance of protecting her and seeing that she fulfills the destiny that Wolfram and Hart and the Watchers have laid out for her. And besides, you _will_ make a good Watcher. I know how knowledgeable you are."

"Then you also know I'm not dumb enough to be suckered into their plans! Now that I know what's goin' on, I'm gonna to do everything I can to see to it that Dawn lives out a long, _normal_ life! I'll be Dawn's Watcher, all right, but because _Buffy_ told me to watch out for 'er — I don't answer to you lot! So keeping Dawn's protection in mind, you're gonna tell me where Faith is, or Cerberus here is gonna 'ave 'imself a nice midnight snack ...."

In emphasis, Cerberus gave Travers' hand a lick. Travers shivered.

"I don't know where exactly. I only know that the group making the clones is an undercover government agency called 'The Initiative'."

Just then, Spike heard a cell phone chirp. Everyone but Fred and Spike checked their pockets. It turned out to be Angel's.

Angel said a greeting and listened. A moment later, he held it out to Spike."It's for you ...."

Spike took the phone and said hello, curious as to who it could be. It was Anya. First she berated him for not having a phone of his own; then she told him about the visitors they'd had that evening. He didn't bother relating his own night to her, as she didn't really leave him room to get a word in edgewise before hanging up. At any rate, he learned that they had a fair amount of information in common, about the clones at least, save that the Scoobies had know one thing that he and Angel's gang hadn't.

"The good news is, we now know where Faith is. The bad news is, we have to wait for Captain Cardboard to get here and get us in to where she's being held captive."

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

The Scoobies arrived at Angel's hotel late the next morning, having opted for a night of rest before heading to LA. The greeting they got was not the happiest of ones: Spike flipped when he saw Dawn with them. They explained that they needed every hand, and couldn't leave anyone behind to watch her. This only just managed to keep him from breaking something. When he suggested they leave Dawn behind with too-mousey-for-battle Fred, they agreed, ignoring Dawn's protests.

Wesley informed Giles of Wolfram and Hart's involvement with the Watcher's council, a point the Scoobies hadn't learned from Riley. It was clear that there was no love lost between Wes and Giles, and the latter tried to deny the possibility of the Watchers being in cahoots in the demonic lawyers at first, but in the end Giles had to admit in his heart of hearts that he had suspected corruption in the council for a long while. The two men talked, Wesly apologising for his failure with Faith, and Giles confessing his feelings of failure over Buffy's death. It seemed the two might finally get past their differences to find a boatload of similarities. Spike hoped he might get along with them as well; if he was going to be Dawn's watcher, he could use all the advice he could get. In fact, he had no problem with having Giles be Dawn's Watcher too — as far as he was concerned, the more the merrier. Why should a slayer have only _one_ watcher?

The notion of peacable relations didn't seem so promising in regards to Buffy's ex-boyfriends. Angel and Riley got into a row almost right away, each blaming the other once again for breaking Buffy's heart. To make matters worse, when Spike tried to break it up, he ended up getting into it himself. After all, how could he not feel some resentment towards the two for having what he never could and then throwing it away?

Cerberus tried to join in at first, but Spike told him that this was like a challenge in a pack: those who were not apart of it did not interfere.

As much as Spike and Angel's relations had improved after Buffy's death, there was still a deep-seated resentment in Spike, first over Dru, then over Buffy. Angel had always acted like he was better than him, a factor which had chaffed Spike for over a century. Besides, there came a day when a son _had_ to stand up to his father and prove his mettle, or so his 19th-century upbringing had taught him.

As for Riley, well the boy _had staked_ him, even if it was just with a plastic stake. Sure, they had bonded over a bottle of booze after that, but that didn't mean Spike had forgiven the Man of Cardboard. In fact, Spike had brought about the turn of events that led to Buffy's eventual dumping of the boy; apparently Riley hadn't forgotten that either.

So the whole situation degenerated into a three-way throwdown, Angel and Spike getting in the hardest hits, with Riley getting most of his in while the vamps were distracted with each other. Spike didn't get many in on Riley, with the chip causing him to let his guard down as he doubled over in agony. But when he did, he made it count. Especially his last hit, which knocked Riley out cold — and consequently himself.

And poor Cerberus, who was mentally bonded with him.

When Spike came to, the females in the group made their disapproval loudly known, clucking and tsking as they dragged the boys into chairs and cleaned them up. Cordy and Fred saw to Angel while Anya and Tara saw to Riley, and Dawn and Willow tended Spike. Angel and Riley looked almost as bad as Spike had after Glory had worked him over. Spike thought maybe his girls seemed a little proud as they remarked that he didn't look half so bad. Luckily for the two vamps, they would be back to normal in a day or two, maybe less in Spike's case. Riley would be hurting for a while ....

When the boys had caught their breath, so to speak, the girls forced them to shake hands and apologise. Afterwards, the boys took a good look at the mess they'd made of each other, and got to teasing one another. That led to laughter, and a sort of grudging camaraderie formed — although Spike thought he sensed a certain bitterness still coming from the human towards him, if not Angel. Well, he supposed the boy had never had dealings with Angel before and had no reason real to hate _him_ ....

When the excitement was over, everyone set down to planning the evening's infiltration. It was decided that Angel's gang would be a diversion, while Spike, Anya, and Xander would play defense, allowing the newly repaired Buffy-bot, as well as Willow, Tara, Giles, Dawn, Riley, and the fake Faith (who Riley revealed was named "Beta-F", and who would remain tied up for the duration of the exercise), to get to the _real_ Faith and trade her for the fake ....

 

RFRFRFRFRFRFRF

Riley carried a figure slung fireman-style over his shoulder as he came up to secret entrance of The Initiative. He went through the various identity-checks and waited for clearance. As he waited, a it washard to avoid the recurring thouight he'd had since the fight with Angel and Spike: if Buffy came back, of the three of them, Spike, the one who _hadn't_ had a chance with her, was the most likely candidate for her to turn to now. Spike, the vamp with no soul who nonetheless swore to spend his afterlife protecting her sister. Spike, who loved Buffy and stuck by her no matter how badly she'd treated him .... Riley knew the Scoobies had opted not to tell Spike about the Buffy clone, much less the possibility of Buffy's soul returning via said clone, not wanting to get the vamp's hopes up, but a vindictive side of Riley was tempted to tell the vamp himself, for exactly that reason ....

Finally (blessedly), a voice crackled at him through the intercom, distracting him form his bitter thoughts. "Agent Riley, where have you been? What happened to your _face?_ And what has happened to Beta-F?"

"Hansen, I don't exactly have time to talk. Buffy and her gang are hot on my tail here -— send out some backup, and you'll have those memories Gage wanted you to get!"

"WHAT???" Riley then heard the man bark out some commands.

After a moment, the door opened. Riley walked calmly down the corridor, carrying his load, as his fellow soldiers ran the other way, towards the Scoobies. When they were alone, Riley set the figure down gently on her feet. Without a word, he led her to the surveillance center. In minutes, she had every camera deactivated, all the lights out but the emergency lights, and all the doors unlocked.

"Willow, have you ever considered a career in espionage?"

Willow — dressed in Beta-F's clothes — grinned back at him.

Outside, Angel's gang and the Scoobies were taking care of the Initiative soldiers. When they were through, they ran inside and met up with Riley and Willow, then broke off into their respective groups. Angel's team (Wes, Gunn, and Cordy) did their best to make their presence known, drawing the attention of the panicked soldiers. Spike's team (Cerberus, Xander, and Anya) followed a bit behind Willow's's team (Tara, Giles, the Buffy-Bot, and a bound Beta-F), protecting them from anyone that came upon them from behind while the witches took care of anyone in front.

After what seemed like hours of navigating smoke-filled corridors, Riley led Wollow's team to a door. There was a small tussle with some guards in the room, which turned out to be a cell block. Spike's team waited in the corridor while Willow's team went in to fetch the Slayers. Riley stayed in the hall with Spike's team.

 

RGRGRGRGRGRG

Only prolonged exposure to the Buffy-bot kept Willow, Tara, and Giles from falling apart. They all kept telling themselves that, at the moment, the clone was just an android made of flesh instead of wire. Not their Buffy.

Giles went over to Faith's cell and tried to coax the girl out of it. She wouldn't budge. "One cell is as good as another," she told him, her eyes pools of emptiness.

Giles suddenly believed Angel about Faith's decision to reform. He admired her desire to, but this was not the time. "Faith, what good are you doing here? How is this going to clean up your Karma, make up for all the harm you've done? You're a _Slayer_ , it's your _job_ to _help_ people! You're not helping anyone _here_ but your _enemies!_ There is a girl somewhere out there who will lose her freedom just like you did, just like Buffy, because if something happens to you, _that girl_  will become the next Slayer! And if you stay here, it _will_ happen, Faith. They plan to kill you, and you'll take another girl down with you, and the girl after her, and the one after her! You owe it to them to give them more time, if noting else! Let them be just girls for as long as you can! And do your job and _save_ people while you're at it, instead of sitting here feeling sorry for yourself!"

That seemed to do the trick. Faith's eyes were no longer empty, but filled with a sort of sad resolve as she picked herself off the floor, squared her shoulders, and left the chamber. Giles left the clone in her place, in hopes that it would take The Initiative at least a little while to discover they had been duped and keep them off the real Faith's trail for a bit.

While he did all that, he failed to notice the excitement going on in the Buffy-clone's cell. The girls apparently hadn't gotten the clone and the bot to exchange clothes yet.

"What's going on?" he asked them.

"It's _Buffy_ , Giles! I mean, the _real_ Buffy! I mean, well it's not the original body, but it's her soul inside it already!"

Giles looked at the clone in awe, tears threatening to spill. "How can you be sure?" He reached out a hand to touch the clone's cheek. The clone went into a defensive stance, and seemed to be eyeing them all warily, especially the Buffy-bot.

"I can _feel_ her in there, Giles!" Tara told him excitedly. "Maybe this is why the séance didn't work! She was already incarnate!"

"So ... why doesn't she seem to _know_ us?"

"Well, she does a little. I mean, that's why she's not staking us like she was trained to do. But a clone wouldn't have the original's memories, and when we reincarnate, we seldom remember much — if anything — of our previous lives," Tara explained. "But if we get her out of here, we can fix that!"

"Except that she isn't being too cooperative," Willow added.

The Buffy-bot took care of that for them; she gave the clone a solid whack on the head, knocking her out cold.

Giles flinched. "Well, not the method I would have preferred, but it will do in a pinch." He turned while the girls switched the clothes. When they were done, he carried the clone in his arms, cradling her tenderly, just wanting to feel the warmth, feel her heartbeat against him and know that she was alive.

Willow addressed the Buffy-bot. "Now, you know what to do. Pretend you're the clone for as long as you can get away with it, then run. If they catch you, then ...."

"Self-destruct."

Willow looked guilty then; Giles sympathised. They couldn't let The Initiative have the bot, but it felt wrong somehow to expect it to give up its life, such as it was, for them.

The Buffy-bot smiled and put a hand on Willow's shoulder. "I'm okay with this. It makes my existence worth something, to do this, to truly be like the real Buffy."

That did _not_ make Giles feel better, but they didn't have time to debate it. This was the 'bot's decision as much as Buffy's original sacrifice had been her own.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

When they left the cell block, Spike thought he noticed something strange, but the smells and the noise assaulting his senses kept him from pinpointing it. He asked Cerberus if he noticed anything.

**There is a new smell, female, but I don't know where it's coming from.**

Probably a female soldier. "Let's get out of 'ere, people, c'mon, _move_ it!"

As they ran, he noticed Giles carrying the Buffy-bot. "What 'appened to the 'bot?"

"Wha-? Oh, uh, something short-circuted, we think." He stopped short. "Wait! We have to find the clone samples, or they'll make more of them-—"

"All taken care of," Spike assured him.

"... What?"

"While you lot were takin' yer sweet time in the cell block, Riley and Cerberus tracked down the lab what they make the clones in and destroyed all the samples, along with the equipment they use to make the clones."

Just then, Angel's team caught up with them. When they got outside, they separated again into their respective vehicles and made for Angel's place.

As soon as they got to the hotel, Willow, Tara, and Giles mad a bee-line for the nearest room, dragging Dawn and the Buffy-bot with them, and shut the door. Everyone else settled themselves down in the various couches and chairs and began to tend one another's wounds. When Xander and Anya finished tending to each other, they practically carried the two vamps (and one vamp-dog) out the door, claiming that they had been nominated to go for a food-run. They took Angel's car.

 

WPWPWPWPWP

When Xander and the vamps were gone, Willow and Giles carried in a bodybag from outside. They'd had a huge styrofoam box in the trunk of Xander's car, filled with dry ice and one corpse. Angel's gang protested at the smell, until Willow filled them in on the details. She and Giles brought the corpse into the room where they'd left the Buffybot, Tara, and Dawn, and shut the door. Everyone else sat pensively, waiting for news of the outcome from the closed room, even Faith.

After a while, there was a knock at the front door. It was Travers. He came in without invitation, and sat himself down across from Faith.

"You need a Watcher, you know," he said without preamble.

"What makes you think that? Just because I'm the Slayer doesn't mean I'll have anything to do with the council again."

"And why should she trust you anyway? You'll just hand her over to The Initiative!" Wesley added. He didn't entirely trust Faith, but at this point he liked the council even less, and thought only ill could come of her falling into their hands again.

"Wolfram and Hart has pulled their money out of The Initiative. That's not to say that they won't ever try again with the clones, but with all the research destroyed, it will be slow going. In the meantime, if Wolfram and Hart really wants you, they _will_ find you, Faith. You know that. The council can at least offer you some protection."

"The council is in _league_ with them!" Wesley protested.

"We were in league because of the resources they offered. Think of it, Wesley! An _army_ of Slayers! No longer a single solitary girl fighting alone against the forces of darkness! Of _course_ we wanted that! And they offered a wealth of knowledge in magick and demonology, money to keep the program going! Not to mention that being allied with them allowed us to keep better tabs on their activities. We _know_ they're evil! You could take a lesson from this, Faith. If you stay in contact with the Watchers, you'll have a better idea of what _we_ are up to as well. You want to make up for your sins? We can help you do that. We have the resources — _you_ do not. Or you can go on running, run from us, from The Initiative, from Wolfram and Hart. Run from your destiny and try to eek out a living in the workaday world, never mind fighting monsters. I, for one, suggest you 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer'."

He turned his attention to Riley. "And you, my boy. What are you going to do now? I doubt The Initiative would welcome you back this time, or the army for that matter. Ever consider being a Watcher? You had a taste of it with Buffy, so we know you can handle yourself against demons ...."

Wesley saw Riley looking at Faith, the murderess, with undisguised disgust. As he watched, though, the boy's face softened. Wlesly understood; it was hard to see the shattered woman now and not feel pity. She had killed, but she had been broken first, by the Watchers and her own family. Wes knew she felt remorse, too, like Angel did. And from what Wes had heard of Riley, he guessed the boy knew what it was like to seek atonement. Besides, Wes also knew what it was like to need to feel useful — it was why he himself had joined forces with Angel. And there was one more factor, the one Travers himself had appealed to Faith with. ....

"The more eyes we have on the Watchers, and the more access we have to their facilities, the better off we'll be," Wes told the young man.

Riley raised a questioning brow to Faith. She sighed and nodded. Riley granted Travers a single, cold nod himself.

 

WRWRWRWRWR

On the other side of the door, Willow, Tara, Giles, and Dawn sat in a circle around two bodies of Buffy, one living and one dead. The stench from the corpse was making them all ill — not to mention the disturbing fact that it was once the living form of one who meant so much to them. They continued the ritual, but not without difficulty. They all prayed to any deity that might be listening that it would work.

Tara had explained to Dawn that a brain was like a record, full of grooves that recorded things and could play them back. The spell they were working was supposed to dub the recording from one brain to the other. As they each did their part, the corpse's head began to glow with a purple light. Soon the light became a cloud hovering over it. The cloud drifted over the clone's body, and sank into her head. Willow, whose eyes had been shut, stopped chanting and opened them.

"Buffy?" she asked tentatively. The clone didn't respond. A little alarmed, Willow shook her shoulder gently and asked again, "Buffy?"

After a breathless moment, Buffy rolled onto her side and curled up. "Just a few more minutes, huh Will? Class isn't for an hour yet ...."

The four spellcasters gave a collective yelp of joy as they hugged each other and cried.

Buffy sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes with her hand. "I had the weirdest dream! I dreamt I died!" She put her hand down beside her —- right on top of the corpse. The smell hit her, and she looked down. She promptly screamed.

 

RFRFRFRFRFRFRF

Everyone stood when they heard the scream. Riley was the first to the door. He kicked it open, tensed to fight anything that might be beyond. But instead of a nightmare he found a dream come true: Buffy was alive!

Okay, so she was shaken and crying, but still — _alive_. At least, she was if the spell had worked. But it had to have worked, judging from the behavior of those closest to her.

Dawn, Willow, and Giles held a bewildered Buffy in a massive group hug, smothering her with kisses and tears of joy. The others piled into the room and stood around the pair, happy to see Buffy alive even if they hadn't felt the loss as keenly as those three.

Riley herded Angel's crew back out. As much as he wanted to hug Buffy himself, he knew that, for her first moments back with them, he had no place there.

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Xander and Anya were just coming in the door when they heard crying and laughter. Xander dropped the bags of food he carried and ran into the open room. He stopped short when he saw his best friends holding his first love tight between them. He wanted to remember this moment, hold it fast in his mind forever, when love conquered death and hope was born anew. He would never doubt happy endings again. But as hard as he tried to hold onto the moment, he couldn't stand still another second: he ran to them all and held them, his arms big enough to hold the world (which at that moment was comprised of only four others).

As the eon-long heartbeat passed, he gradually became aware that there was still something missing. He looked about and saw Tara and Anya, and gestured them forward. He stroked Anya's hair with one arm while he continued to hold everyone else in the other, and kissed her; Tara did the same with Willow. Xander was overjoyed to have Buffy back; he would always love her. Just as he would always love the other Scoobies, he realised. They were apart of him, and to lose any one was to lose a bit of himself. But Anya ... Anya was his heart.

So why did he still have this strange feeling that there was _still_ something missing?

 

WRWRWRWRWR

For her part, Willow realised something. She realised the love she felt for Buffy went beyond sisterhood. It was closer to what she felt for Tara, but instead of being an intense and all-consuming roar in her blood, it was a hum, always there, a rythym for the harmony she and Tara shared. And Dawn, Giles, Xander, Anya, they all had parts to play in that melody too. The Scoobies made each other complete.

So why did it seem there was still an instrument or two absent from the orchestra?

 

RGRGRGRGRGRG

Giles had his daughter back. True, all the Scoobies had come to be children to him, but Buffy was like his firstborn. He loved all his children, but she was his heir, and the one who held the family together. He was the elder, she was the chief. When she was gone, there had been a hole that none of those remaining could fill.

So why, now that she was back, did he have the nagging feeling that there was still someone missing?

 

TM&AJTM&AJTM&AJ

Tara and Anya had never felt so much of a sense of belongingwith the Scoobies before. They knew that their respective partners loved them, but both had always felt that there was the original Scoobies to one side of said love, and them on the other. Now they knew it wasn't so. They had expected to feel left out in the cold for a while when Buffy was back, to feel a surge of jealousy as Buffy once again took a part of their lovers that they could never reach. But instead, they realised that they weren't in competition with Buffy, but in tandem. They felt truly at one with the Scoobies.

So how was it that it still felt like the group wasn't whole?

 

DDDDDDDDDDD

Dawn had her sister  back — and, in a way, her mother.

That was what Buffy had become to Dawn after Joyce had died, especially since the monks had actually made Dawn  _from_ Buffy. Though their family was changed, it was almost whole again. Xander, Willow, Tara, Anya, they were like aunts and uncles and siblings all rolled into one. Giles was somehow both father and grandfather. Lines between relationships were fading, much like Dawn had once made the lines between realities do. She understood now that this was what she had been made for: not to create chaos, but rather to make things right, to complete a picture.

But there was still something gone from this family web she had helped to weave, this fabric of reality that she had inadvertently helped shape. A piece or two was still needed to complete the picture-puzzle.

And then she realised, just as she had more than one mother, she had more than one father. She didn't mean Hank Summers, either. Where was the one who'd watched over her all these months? The one who was father and brother and uncle and grandfather? Spike should be there with them — and Cerberus, who was like a kid brother, and a son, and even, in a protective way, a father to her too.

 

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Burdened by armloads of food — Chinese, Italian, American — Angel and Spike went straight to the kitchen.

Without speaking, Spike began to set the table, laughingly cursing the vampdog for getting underfoot. The dog couldn't abandon his doggy habit of dog-like begging even though he had learned to communicate via telepathy (and didn't need food, being undead).

 

AAAAAAAAAA

Angel went into the front room to gather everyone for dinner/breakfast. The first thing he noticed was Travers. Cordy and Faith managed to keep him from vamping out on the man. Wes explained what had been decided, and Angel relaxed. Some. Then he heard the laughter and crying coming from the other room. No one stopped him as he strode over to it. In fact, it seemed to him that everyone was smiling, even with tears touching their eyes.

He could understand the tears when he reached the door: the stench emanating from beyond it made his own eyes water. Why had the Scoobies brought a zombie over? Then, faintly under the stench, he caught a familiar scent. If his heart had been beating, it would have stopped. There, in the center of the room, surrounded by candles that were more than adequate light for his vampire eyes, the Scoobies held a living, breathing Buffy. It took another moment for his brain to register that the rotting smell was coming from _another_ Buffy, a dead one, beside them. He stood there gaping for who knew how long.

 

BBBBBBBBBBBB

Buffy was the first to notice Angel in the doorway. She tried to identify what she was feeling as she looked at him, but she wasn't sure she felt anything at all. She was sure that somewhere inside herself she was glad to see her friends, her family. She was glad -— _relieved_ — that they were safe. She knew she had done right, sacrificing herself for her sister, her daughter; if not for that, she would not be able to hold her close now. But she also felt ... embarrassed? Like she had committed some strange breach of etiquette. It was surreal, sitting next to your own decayed corpse, and not as a spirit, but in flesh and blood. No other Slayer had gotten to come back; why had she? Why _did_ she? Did the Scoobies, in their love of her, drag her out of wherever she had been? Why couldn't she remember where she _had_ been? Wherever it had been, she felt like she had left a part of herself behind. She could almost picture what it was too, like some sort of dream only half-remembered. There was a time in her life when she would have said Angel was what she was missing, but now that he was holding her tight, as she felt his tears on her face, she knew it wasn't true. They would always have the past, but their futures held no real place, no need, for each other — not like they once had. She thought she should feel sad, but only felt sad that she _didn't_ feel something.

She had seen Riley fleetingly when she first woke up, but he was gone as quick as he'd come. And she hadn't missed him.

Now he was back, took his turn holding her, and she had to force herself to hug him back. He wasn't what she was missing either, was even less so than Angel. He had been a temporary fix, and all she felt now was guilt over having not seen it before, at having used him, however inadvertently. She wasn't _unhappy_ to see him, exactly, would always care for him in some way just as she woud always care for Angel, but if Riley hadn't been there after she awoke from the dead, she would not have regretted it.

The Scoobies couldn't seem to keep from touching her for very long, each vying to put an arm around her or hold her hand. It was stifling. Had they grown so dependent on her? Hadn't she shown them how to stand on their own feet? Hadn't Willow become a powerful witch, and Xander a modern-day knight? Hadn't they lived their own lives, gone on at _all_ without her? Had Dawn truly lived the normal life that she herself had so desperately wished for, as she'd ordered the girl to? How was it that, held close by all she had ever loved, Buffy felt there was a gap between herself and them? How could she feel all this resentment towards them now, this anger? She wondered if she had ever felt so alone before she had died.

And them she realised that the anger was a wall she had built herself, not to keep them out, but herself in. She had abandoned most of them, left them to fend for themselves to save one who didn't _want_ to be saved. She took away Dawn's right to fulfill her destiny as the Key, usurped it in her own selfish wish to escape her _own_ destiny. To escape from having to make life-and-death choices, from having to love when loving meant being hurt, from having to care for others, even her sister. She couldn't bear for them to see the truth. What was it the old saying said? "To love others, you first have to love yourself." She hated herself now, so what could she give them?

 

SSSSSSSSSSSS

Spike sat tiredly and started to dig in, sharing a bit of everything with Cerberus. Halfway through his plate, he noticed that no one else had come in yet. Curious, he got up and walked out into lobby. Faith and Travers sat there, staring at the half-open door across the way. He didn't even stop to wonder why the old man was there. There was a horrid scent in the air, the smell of a rotting corpse, and it seemed to be wafting from the open door. That was the room where Willow had taken the Buffy-bot. Spike thought he heard weeping.

**Odd. I smell the same female I did back at The Initiative's lab ....** Cerberus informed him.

Spike took a deep whiff, almost gagging on the stench. There it was. He knew the scent now. How could he not have noticed it? He almost emptied the contents of his half-full stomach then and there. "No ... They couldn't have! Willow wouldn't ...."

He wasn't sure if it was anger or hope that propelled him across the room, through the doorway, through the crowd within. He did let out a bellow of rage at what he saw, Buffy's corpse surrounded by candles.

"How _dare_ you?! HOW could you ... _defile_ her like this?!?"

He rushed over the body and knelt beside it. He picked it up, holding it close, no longer caring about the smell, much less the feel of it. He sobbed as if she were newly dead, not caring when the huddle of Scoobies turned and stared at him like he was mad.

**Spike, why are you crying?** Cerberus, asked him, alarmed. Then he added, **Funny, that body kinda smells a bit like that girl over there, albeit not as pretty. She looks like those picture of Buffy you have up in the crypt, too ....** And then the dog mindspoke in a strange lisp, **The stowy  _can_ be wewitten ...**

Spike had a sudden image of the dog standing on two legs, dressed in a suit. His vision swam, and he heard someone sing softly, "I will love you, until the end ... of ... time ...."

He looked up towards the sound, and saw Buffy there, dressed in a strange dress that somehow seemed familiar. Had he dreamed this all once? Was he dreaming _now?_

 

BBBBBBBBBBB

Buffy looked down at the weeping vampire, and was oddly moved. In the anguish of his weeping, she found warmth, and was comforted even as _he_ was tormented by it. As she looked at him, it was as if she saw him before he was turned, as the boy William had been. He looked up at her, and for a moment she swore she could see him in the garb of his native time, his hair longer, his clothes a Victorian suit instead of his trademark duster. She suddenly remembered a dream she'd had when she was dead, if it could be called that. Death had told Spike that Buffy would be allowed to return to the world of the living if he could convince her to do so. He obviously had, because here she was. And she knew how. He had shown her true love, and _that_ was what had been worth returning for. She had seen Spike's true nature, finally seen beyond the monster, to the man. She had liked what she'd seen. But how could she reconcile what she saw in a dream with the reality of who he was?

His eyes held the answer. When she looked into those perfect pools of clear blue, she saw how he saw her, how he loved her. There was darkness in those eyes too, but she found she wasn't afraid to look into it; it defined the light. The torch he had for her in his heart was so bright, she would never be afraid of the dark again, even the dark within herself. With him, she could face herself, and in turn, face her friends with her head held high and her arms open wide.

She knelt beside him and touched his cheek with the backs of her fingers. He didn't stir, but stared at her, eyes wide, his body still as death. "Spike .... Put it down. It's not me, anymore than the Buffy-bot was. _This_ is me." She took his face in both hands, looking intently in his eyes, willing him to see the love she'd found for him inside herself and believe. She whispered to him, only loud enough for him to hear. "Hold _me_."

The corpse slipped from his undead arms and fell to the ground with a thud. He pulled her close in a fierce hug, weeping tears of profound joy into her golden tresses. He shook like a leaf, and she marveled how someone so strong could be so tender, how someone so hard and cold could also be so warm and soft. After a moment, she didn't care. She had found what she was missing, and she didn't think she'd ever felt so whole.

 

EVERYONE

The Scoobies still stared, most of them not really sure how they felt about this turn of events. It was hard to forget the past, hard to forget all the evil things Spike had done. But with Buffy's apparent acceptance, they couldn't deny the sense of rightness in the air. A feeling like all the pieces had finally fallen into place, and the picture was complete. But they also couldn't help being afraid to look and see what the picture actually _was_.

Well, all save Dawn, who couldn't contain her glee any longer and threw her arms about the pair, and Cerberus, who squeezed his way into the hug. Spike and Buffy laughed, and hugged her back. Buffy motioned for the others. The Scoobies shrugged and joined in. And after another moment, Angel, Wes, Cordy, Faith, and Riley joined in too; they might not still be as directly connected to Buffy, but there was no denying that they all were pieces of a larger picture. Even Gunn and Fred, watching the happy scene from the sidelines, glad for their friends, were like the border peices to the puzzle.

Cerberus barked.

"Cerberus wants to know when we can get back to eating," Spike laughed.

The crowd broke up a bit then, realizing they were hungry, as if the dog had voiced the complaints of their growling stomachs.

 

BBBBBBBBBBBBB

Buffy was delighted with Cerberus, doting on the dog all through dinner. When she finished her third plateful, she quipped that she had been eating for two. She noted how Spike blushed at that, and wondered how she had never noticed the gentleman in him before. How did she not see just how adorable he was?

**I thought _I_ was the adorable one ...**

"Huh?" Spike said, staring at the dog.

Buffy stared at the dog too. "Willow, I think something must have backfired in that spell. I'd swear the dog just read my mind, and then talked back."

Spike stared at Buffy now. "... _You_ can hear him _too?_ "

"... What do you mean, 'too'?" Buffy asked.

 

 

EVERYONE

As they finished their meal, Spike told her the story of how he met Cerberus, the Scoobies and Angel filling in details now and then. They took a break at one point, moving into a suite with plenty of couches, where they filled Buffy in on the rest of the things she had missed while dead (and Faith had missed while incacerated).

Dawn conked out first, leaning against Buffy. Buffy fell asleep leaning against Spike. He put his arm around her, and there they lay with their feet up on the coffee table and the dog across their lap. Later that evening, they were the last to wake up.

The others had moved back into the kitchen, but Willow had stopped to take a picture of the scene. (Later, she would put it in a frame, along with a photo she had taken a while back of Spike sleeping in his crypt with Cerberus across his chest, held tight like a teddy bear.) When Angel asked what she was doing, she quipped "More blackmail photos."

"For Spike or for _Buffy?_ " Angel replied slyly.

 

DDDDDDDD

Dawn woke up before her sister or Spike, and carefully extricated herself from the family bliss in favour of the scent of pizza. She thought the dog would join her, but he slept on.

"More for me," she decided, slipping out of the room.

SSSSSSSSSSS

Spike woke up before Buffy. He just sat there for a long while, enjoying the warmth of her next to him, drinking in the sight of her with far more relish than he had ever drunk blood. He was half afraid that it was really all a dream after all.

Buffy stirred a bit, snuggling deeper against him. He smiled and began to sing softly, like he was signing a lullaby.

" _Never knew I could feel like this ..._  
_like I'd never seen the sky before ..._  
_Want to vanish, inside your kiss_  
_Every day I love you more and more_

 _"Listen to my heart,_  
_can't you hear it sing?_  
_Tellin' me to give you_  
_everything!_  
_Seasons may change,_  
_winter to spring—"_

  
Buffy sang the next line, eyes closed and still half asleep as she did:

" _But I love you ...  
until the end ... of ... time ...._ "

"Mmmmm ..." she murmured then. "What do I know that song from? It seems I dreamed it once ...."

Spike's heart began to beat. Could the dream he'd had been more than just a dream? "You couldn't know it, love, it came out after you ..."

She opened her eyes, and he was amazed to feel the warmth shining from them. "You can say the words, Spike. I'm not dead anymore. Besides, _you're_ dead, and I don't see _you_ complaining ..." She took hold of his free hand. "Mr Cold Fingers!"

"Well, y'know wot they say, luv? Cold hands, warm ...." He placed her hand on his chest, above his heart, and knew she could feel the pulse there, the pulse that wasn't supposed to exist. " _You_ do that to me ..." he told her in a whisper.

**Oh, shut up and kiss her already! I'm tryin' ta sleep here!**

Buffy laughed. "Yes, listen to your dog, Spike."

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last episode of this fic collection. Sooner or later, I'll post the sequel fic collection, "Watchdogs".

**Author's Note:**

> If you've enjoyed my writing, I invite you to explore my original fantasy storyverse, [Gaiankind](http://gaiankind.com)! You can even find Gaiankind stories for free [here](http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Gaiankind) on AO3!


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